ee 


ais 3 , r ~ > oe 
> ene 3 ia ; . | | vas 
egies GP SaaeeS . > | , 
y Konan : : ‘ : : =e : 
FFrretep eee at hyenas) a sR STS eng Se aes ) = as ies 


aby 


oie 
saat Sa “ss | 


AE tea 


+ ‘ 
3 
eS a bal 


tM 


a 


N 


Ss 


< 


AW 


GAs 


tite 


a Ne oe 


es ki! 


Pres 


wtiavey 
ae 


sit 


* 
¥ 
iS 
3 
+ 


Dina 


Suiuive 


hed eee 


faye 


RET 
Seat Neneeasenail 
PPR pen eye 


tre ae , : 
e . t , Sots and Se eters ae os sant 
eas ae . ; 


Othe 


sattincpeeaiee 


PTS pase 


PRESENTED BY 


Miss Ethel Ricker 


from the 
Library of her Father 
Nathan Clifford Ricker 
Head of the Department of 
Architecture, 1873-1911 


OAK ST. HDSF 


ys Ap ap 
Mrs Mary 7 vy whe 


Fs 
Sawn ie Abir-the 


Ab pile 


) fs 
os 
Peiersiy of Illinois Urbana- phere 
ae 
. Beets 3 
Vag tas 


https ://archive.org/details/womaninsacredhisOOstow_1 


+. 


WOMAN 


IN 


SACRED HISTORY: 


A SERIES OF SKETCHES 
DRAWN FROM SCRIPTURAL, HISTORICAL, AND LEGENDARY SOURCES. 


BY 


HARRIET BEECHER STOWE. 


Illustrated with Sixteen Chromo-Lithographs, 


AFTER PAINTINGS BY RAPHAEL, BAFONI, HORACE VERNET, GOODALL, LANDELLE, KOEHLER, 
PORTAELS, VERNET-LECOMTE, BAADER, MERLE, AND BOULANGER: PRINTED BY 
MONROCQ, FROM STONES EXECUTED BY JEHENNE, PARIS. 


NEW YORK: 
seo vr 1) Aw NIe G OM PAN -Y.. 
1874. 


Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, 
BY J. B. FORD AND COMPANY, 
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 


CAMBRIDGE, MASS, 


CONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTION. 


J. WOMEN OF THE PATRIARCHAL AGES. 


1. SaRAH THE PRINCESS. 
2. HaGaR THE SLAVE. 

3. REBEKAH THE BRIDE. 
4, 


LEAH AND RACHEL. 


II. WOMEN OF THE NATIONAL PERIOD. 


Miriam, SISTER OF Moszs. 
DEBORAH THE PROPHETESS. 
DELILAH THE DESTROYER. 


JEPHTHA’S DAUGHTER. 


ee eo 


HANNAH THE Prayina MorTHER. 
10. Ruta THE MOABITESS. 

11. Tae Witcu or ENDpor. 

12. QurEEN ESTHER. 


13. JupITH THE DELIVERER. 


III. WOMEN OF THE CHRISTIAN ERA. 


14. THe Mytuican Maponna. 

15. Mary THE MoTHER OF JESUS. 
16. Tae DavcutTer or Heropias. 
17. THe Woman oF SAMARIA. 

18. Mary MaGpDALENE. 


19. MarrHa anp Mary. 


5 AJ 
aye) 
aA 


J I] 
J 


Phe 


has. 


» tals ei 
Me Tat ri i 


THE ILLUSTRATIONS 


OF THIS VOLUME. 


HE notable characters among the women of Bible history present 
le ZG 5nii| So attractive and variable a theme for pictorial representation, that 
AAS: 1G) they have been several times grouped in book form, both in Europe 

—=AS=% and America, within the past twenty years. The freshness of the 
present publication, therefore, consists not in the subject but in its mode of 
treatment. 

In seeking material to illustrate Mrs. Stowe’s interesting sketches, two pur- 
poses have been kept in view: first, the securing of a series of pictures which, 
by a judicious selection among different schools and epochs of art, might give 
a more original and less conventional presentation of the characters than 
could be had were all the illustrations conceived by the same mind, or exe- 
cuted by the same hand; and, secondly, the choice of such pictorial subjects as 
were well adapted to reproduction in colors, so as to represent as perfectly as 
possible, by the rapidly maturing art of chromo-lithography, the real ideas of 
the painters. The guiding principles of selection have been aptness of design 
and a rich variety of effect. 

It will be seen that, in pursuit of this purpose, some pictures of world-wide 
renown have been here reproduced in whole or in part, —the desirable being 
always limited by the practicable; examples of these are the beautiful “ Mag- 
dalen” of BATONI, and the main portion of that most wonderful of all pic- 
tures, the “Sistine Madonna” of RAPHAEL. The only possible excuse for 
mutilating this glorious design is the desire to give some slight idea of its 
color-effect to thousands who have known it only through engravings, and 
who could never know it otherwise, unless in some such way as this. 
Among our illustrations are copies of celebrated paintings of more modern 
date, by the great painters of France, Germany, and England;— such as 
PauL DELAROCHE’s graceful scene on the Nile, where Miriam watches little 
Moses, exposed in the bullrushes; Horack VERNET’s terrible “Judith”; Baa- 
DER’S remorseless “Delilah”; and GooDALL’s lovely picture of “Mary, the 
Mother of Our Lord,” with her offering of two doves in the Temple. Of 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


still another class are those which have been adapted, because of their appo- 
siteness, to illustrate subjects which they were not originally painted for: of 
these, LANDELLE’S “ Fellah Woman,” well shows the Oriental style and youth- 
ful sweetness of “Rebekah” at the fountain, and the “ Dancing-Girl” of 
VERNET-LECOMTE may fairly represent the costume and beauty of Salome, the 
“Daughter of Herodias.” In addition to these varieties, the sixteen plates 
include several which were designed and painted expressly for this work. 
One of the most pleasing is “ Ruth,” by DEVEDEUx of Paris. It is accounted 
also a peculiar advantage that the “Queen Esther” and the “Martha and 
Mary ” —two very striking and effective pictures—are from the studio of 
BOULANGER, who shares with Gérome the highest eminence as a delineator of 
the peculiar and beautiful features of the Orient. 

In order to give some idea of the care taken in the reproduction of these 
subjects, it may be stated that (except where the original paintings them- 
selves were accessible) in every case an accurate copy in oils was painted by 
a skillful artist, and this, together with photographs from the original pic- 
tures, the best impressions of the best engravings, etc., formed the basis on 
which Jehenne, the artist-lithographer, founded jis conscientious work. 
Each subject is produced by a series of color-printings, the average number of 
stones to each picture being fifteen. The delicacy and difficulty of this 
art may be the better appreciated by remembering that, while the painter has 
always at hand his palette, with its numberless pigments of color and shades 
of color, for the patient elaboration of the picture, the lithographer has to 
’ analyze the work which has thus grown up by infinite touches under the 
painter's brush, and must study to concentrate as much as possible the 
effects of each single color in a single stone,—which can print or touch 
the picture but once. The final effect is of course produced by the super- 
position of colors and shades of color one upon another; but the art which 
can thus transfer the painter's minute and painful toil to the breadth 
and rapidity of mechanical reproduction, making accessible to thousands 
the designs in form and ideas in color of the creating genius, instead of 
leaving them imprisoned in the single copy which only the rich purchaser 
may possess,—this is also a true art, and claims the recognition of true 
lovers of art. 

Below is given a descriptive list of the subjects, pictures, and artists of the 
illustrations in the present publication. 

7 
No.1. Mary, the Mother of our Lord. Frep. Goopaut (England, b. 1822). 


This presentation of the Virgin, going into the temple with her offering of two doves, 
is one of the most delicate and beautiful of the entire series. The exceeding 
simplicity of design and of coloring gives it an effect of purity, while the face is 
tender, thoughtful, and in every way attractive. The softness of the drapery and 
the gentle gradations of light are especial features. 


Gb 


Ti 


IV. 


Wade 


* ale 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Hagar and Ishmael. Curtstian Kornuzr (Werben, Germany, b. 1809 ; 
d. 1861). 


This picture is strong and expressive rather than attractive. The depth of the greenish- 
blue sky and the barrenness of the indicated landscape give an intensity to the 
desolateness of the mother, clasping the form of her sturdy and unconscious little 
outcast son. The original painting is now in the Civic Gallery, at Diisseldorf, on 
the Rhine. It was painted at Leinwald in 1843. 


Rebekah. Cuartes Lanpewe (Laval, France, b. 1815). 


This is one of those charming subjects which the enterprise and graceful art of the 
French have brought from the Orient. The original painting (1866) is entitled 
“ Femme Fellah,” and represents one of the women of the Nubian tribe of Fellahs, 
resting at the well before taking up the earthen jar which she has just filled with 
water. This lovely face and figure may well be used to illustrate the maidenly grace 
of ‘‘ Rebekah at the Fountain.” 


Leah and Rachel. Jan Francois Portraits (Vilvorde, Belgium, b. 
1820). 


Leah the ‘‘tender-eyed”’ became the wife of Jacob seven years before he attained the 
hand of his chosen love, Rachel the “‘ beautiful.” And with this, the picture must 
tell its own story. 


Miriam and Moses. Paut Duvarocue (France, b. 1797 ; d. 1856). 


This is one of the most famous designs of one of the most fertile artists of France. The 
original painting has been often engraved, but its freshness and beauty are best 
shown by reproducing its soft and delicate coloring. The careful sister, watching 
through the rushes, and the indistinct form of the mother on the bank above, are 
in exquisite contrast to the quietude of the babe in his basket on th@swaters of the 
placid Nile. 


Deborah. Cuarirs LANDELLE (Laval, France, b. 1815). 


This is one of the adaptations spoken of above. The original painting represents Vel- 
leda, the Prophetess of the Gallic Druids. The grand form, noble face, and inspired 
attitude of the original figure have been scrupulously retained, the background 
only being somewhat modified, the better to suggest the locale of the Israelitish 
prophetess. 


Delilah. outs Maris Baaver (Lannion, France). 


A most ungrateful and ungracious subject, but one portrayed with singular strength 
and concentration of purpose, amid a studious interest of detail, in this effective 
picture. The cold, hard look of the face, and the unrelenting will expressed by the 
slender but steady arm and the supporting hand, half buried in the cushion, in- 
stantly attract attention, while the harmonious variety of color in the accessory 
draperies and furniture of the strange apartment supports the interest of the cen- 
tral figure without detracting from its power. 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


VII. Sephtha’s Daughter. Hueves Muruz. (St. Marcelin, France). 


This illustration of the stern chieftain’s daughter among the mountains with her com- 
panions, bewailing the desolate fate to which she was devoted, is an adaptation from 
one of MERLE’s beautiful pictures. This artist is noted for his success in depicting 
young girls and children. The general expression of face, figure, and surround- 
ings, mark the aptness of this design for its present use. 


IX. Ruth. Louis Duvepevx (Paris, France). 


The author of this charming fancy of the gentle and faithful Moabite, which was 
painted for this volume, is one of the rising and already recognized painters of France, 
having taken several medals under the severe critical awards of the French annual 
Salon. The tender grace and modesty of both face and figure are enhanced by the 
delicacy of the color. 


X. Queen Esther, Henri-ALEXanpReE Ernest BovunancEr (Paris, France, 
b. 1815). 


Having just returned from one of his trips to the Orient, whither he had gone with 
his brilliant confrére Girome, to refill his portfolio with new faces and costumes 
and scenes, to be wrought up into new pictures, Mons. BouLANGER was fortu- 
nately able to respond promptly to the demand for two original designs and 
paintings for the present work. ‘‘ Queen Esther” is one of these. The proud 
and serene beauty of the face, the dignity of the form and bearing, and the simple 
richness of the costume make this a notable picture. And, although the back- 
ground is devoid of everything save the sombre shadow which gives relief to the 
figure, the imagination easily supplies the haughty king, the throng of courtiers, 
and the crowd of suppliant Jews behind their queen. 


XI. Judith. Horace Verner (France, b. 1789; d. 1863). 


Artists have always been fond of this strong subject, but none have so well succeeded 
in rendering the beauty of the intrepid Jewess, combined with her resolution and 
force of character. The horror of the old woman, who holds the dreadful basket to 
receive the head, is finely contrasted with the superb sternness of Judith’s face and 
action, just as the illuminated, gorgeous tapestry of the tyrant’s tent is rebuked by 
the quiet sky and the steady shining of the stars. It is a grand composition, and 
most effective in coloring. 


XII. The Sistine Madonna. Rarnazt Sanzio (Urbino, Italy, b. 1483; d. 
1520). 


Originally painted as an altar-piece for the Sistine Chapel, in the Vatican at Rome 
(whence its name), this grand picture is now in the Dresden Gallery. The paint- 
ing has, below the Virgin’s figure, to the right and left, the kneeling figures of 
Saint Barbara and Pope Gregory the Sixth, under whose reign both the chapel 
and the picture were produced. The halo about the Virgin and Infant is filled 
with indistinct cherub faces, and at the very bottom, apart from the main design, 
are the two cherubs which appear in the plate. The original design is neces- 
sarily shorn of many of these details in the combination given, but the more im- 
portant portions of the painting are well shown. 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


XII Zhe Daughter of Herodias. Emi Vernet-Lecoute (Paris, France, 
b. 1821). 


As stated in the remarks prefatory to this list, the plate taken to represent the Oriental 
type of beauty, and one at least of the costumes of her class, is LEcomrr’s ‘‘ L’ Al- 
mée” (Dancing-Girl). Travelers in the East find by investigation so little change 
of dress or manners, boats, houses, tools, instruments, or modes of life in any form, 
from those of twenty centuries ago, that we need not go far astray in taking a 
dancing-girl of the present day in that ancient land, to suggest the dress which 
the daughter of Herodias possibly assumed, in order to please the puissant king and 
gain by his favor the request of her revengeful mother. The plate presents also, 
from the simple view-point of art, a pleasing picture. (Original painted in 1866.) 


XIV. The Woman of Samaria. Emi Vervet-Lecomts (Paris, France, 
b. 1821). 


This is another of that artist’s admirable Eastern subjects, and has been deemed a 
singularly apposite illustration of the woman at the well, to whom Jesus talked. 
The easy poise of the figure, the steadiness of the head and right hand, and the 
strength of the face, indicate the self-reliance and confidence of a woman who had 
seen much of life; while the listless forgetfulness of the left hand, holding the 
water-jar, and the earnest gaze of the eyes show the awakened mind and fixed 
attention of the listener. 


XV. Mary Magdalene. Pomrzo Grroramo Baroni (Lucca, Italy, b. 1708 ; 
d. 1781). 

This beautiful design and admirable piece of color is one of the pictures that the world 
keeps alive in constant reproduction. It is one of the few paintings which fairly 
compete with the masters of the sixteenth century on their own ground ; for, though 
it is a picture of the eighteenth century, painted during the decadence of European, 
and especially of Italian art, it is very much after the style of the older artists, and 
is brought into direct comparison with the similar expression of this subject by Cor- 
REGGIO, in the same gallery at Dresden. Every student knows that it easily holds 
its own in the competition, if, indeed, it does not bear away the palm. 


XVI. Martha and Mary. HeENRI-ALEXANDRE ErneEsT BovuLaNnceR (Paris, 
France, b. 1815). 


Of the entire list of illustrations taken from modern paintings, perhaps no one is 
more thoroughly original and effective than this; the hand of a master is to be 
seen in every line. The rich beauty and spirited action of Martha, the serene 
repose of Mary’s figure, the sweetness of her face and the quietude of her look under 
the fiery reproaches of the elder sister, the characteristic contrast of color in the 
dresses of the two, the suggested coolness of the vine-embowered porch, and the 
general harmony of line, design, and color, are well worthy of observation. The 
fact that it was designed for this volume by the great Orientalist gives to the picture 
an especial value and interest. 


i 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


INTRODUCTION. 


HE object of the following pages will be to show, in a 
series of biographical sketches, a history of Woman- 
HOOD UNDER DIvINE cULTURE, tending toward the de- 
velopment of that high ideal of woman which we find 

in modern Christian countries. 

All the characters comprised in these sketches belong to one 
nationality. They are of that mysterious and ancient race whose 
records begin with the dawn of history; who, for centuries, have 
been sifted like seed through all the nations of the earth, with- 
out losing either their national spirit or their wonderful physical 
and mental vigor. 

By this nation the Scriptures, which we reverence, were writ- 
ten and preserved. From it came all the precepts and teachings 
by which our lives are guided in things highest and holiest; from 
it came Her who is at once the highest Ideal of human perfec- 
tion and the clearest revelation of the Divine. 

We are taught that the Creator revealed himself to man, not 
at once, but by a system progressively developing from age to 
age. Selecting one man, he made of his posterity a sacerdotal 
nation, through which should gradually unfold a religious litera- 
ture, and from which should come a succession of religious teach- 
ers, and the final development, through Jesus, of a religion whose 
ultimate triumphs should bring complete blessedness to the race. 

In tracing the Bible narrative from the beginning, it is in- 
teresting to mark the effect of this great movement in its re- 
lation to women. ‘The characters we have selected will be 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


arranged for this purpose in a series, under the following 
divisions : — 


I. WomEN OF THE PATRIARCHAL AGES. 
Il. Women OF THE NATIONAL PERIOD. 
III. Women OF THE CHRISTIAN PERIOD. 


We understand by the patriarchal period the interval between 
the calling of Abraham and the public mission of Moses. The 
pictures of life at this time are interesting, because they give 
the clearest idea of what we may call the raw material on 
which the educational system of the Divine Being began to 
work. We find here a state of society the elements of which are 
in some respects peculiarly simple and healthful, and in others 
exhibiting the imperfections of the earth’s childhood. Family 
affection appears to be the strongest force in it, yet it is 
family affection with the defects of an untaught, untrained 
morality. Polygamy, with its well-known evils, was universal 
in the world. Society was broken into roving tribes, and life 
was a constant battle, in which artifice and deception were 
the only refuge of the quiet and peace-loving spirit. Even 
within the bounds of the family, we continually find fraud, artifice, 
and deception. Men and women, in that age of the world, seem 
to have practiced deceit and spoken lies, as children do, from 
immaturity and want of deep reflection. A certain childhood of 
nature, however, is the redeeming charm in all these pictures. 
There is an honest simplicity in the narrative, which refreshes us 
like the talk of children. 

We have been so long in the habit of hearing the Bible read 
In solemn, measured tones, in the hush of churches, that we are 
apt to forget that these men and women were really flesh and 
blood, of the same human nature with ourselves. A factitious 
solemnity invests a Bible name, and some good people seem to 
feel embarassed by the obligation to justify all the proceedings 
of patriarchs and prophets by the advanced rules of Christian 
morality. In this respect, the modern fashion of treating the 
personages of sacred story with the same freedom of inquiry as 
the characters of any other history has its advantages. It takes 


INTRODUCTION. 


them out of a false, unnatural light, where they lose all hold on 
our sympathies, and brings them before us as real human beings. 
Read in this way, the ancient sacred history is the purest natu- 
ralism, under the benevolent guidance of the watchful Father of 
Nations. 

Pascal very wisely says, ‘‘The whole succession of men dur- 
ing the long course of ages ought to be considered as a single 
man, who exists and learns from age to age.” Considered in this 
light, it is no more difficult to conceive of an infinite Father toler- 
ating an imperfect childhood of morals in the whole human race, 
than in each individual of that race. The patriarchs are to be 
viewed as the first pupils in the great training-school whence the 
world’s teachers in morals were to come, and they are shown 
to us in all the crudity of early pupilage. The great virtue of 
which they are presented as the pattern is the virtue of the child 
and the scholar — FAITH. 

Faith, the only true reason for weak and undeveloped natures, 
was theirs, and as the apostle says, ‘it was counted to them for 
righteousness.” However imperfect and uncultured one may be, 
if he has implicit trust in an infallible teacher, he is in the way 
of all attainment. | 

The faith of which Abraham is presented as the example is not 
the blind, ignorant superstition of the savage. Not a fetish, not 
a selfish trust in a Patron Deity for securing personal advan- 
tages, but an enlightened, boundless trust in the Supreme power, 
wisdom, and rectitude. ‘‘The Judge of all the earth will do right.” 
In this belief, Abraham trusts him absolutely. To him he is will- 
ing to surrender the deepest and dearest hopes of his life, and 
sacrifice even the son in whom center all the nerves of joy and 
hope, ‘‘ accounting,” as the Apostle tells us, “that God was able 
to raise him from the dead.” 

Nor was this faith bounded by the horizon of this life. We 
are informed by the Apostle Paul, who certainly well under- 
stood the traditions of his nation, that Abraham looked forward 
to the same heavenly home which cheers the heart of the 
Christian. ‘By faith Abraham, when he was called to go out 
into a place which he should after receive for an inheritance, 


serena re 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


obeyed; and he went out, not knowing whither he went. By 
faith he sojourned in the land of promise, as in a strange country, 
dwelling in tabernacles with Isaac and Jacob, the heirs with him 
of the same promise: for he looked for a city that hath foundations, 
whose builder and maker is God. They —the patriarchs — de- 
sired a better country, even an heavenly: wherefore God is not 
ashamed to be called their God.” (Heb. xi. 8-10, 16.) 

We are further told that this faith passed as a legacy through 
the patriarchal families to the time of Moses, and that the inspir- 
ing motive of his life was the invisible God and the future world 
beyond the grave. ‘By faith Moses, when he was come to 
years, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter, choos- 
ing rather to suffer affliction with the people of God, than to 
enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season; esteeming the reproach 
of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt, for he 
had respect unto the recompense of reward., By faith he forsook 
Egypt, not fearing the wrath of the great king; for he endured 
as seeing him who is invisible.” (Heb. xi. 24-27.) It has 
been blindly asserted that the hope of a future life was no 
part of the working force in the lives of these ancient patri- 
archs. Certainly, no one ever sacrificed more brilliant prospects 
of things seen and temporal, for the sake of things unseen and 
eternal, than Moses. 

Finally, one remarkable characteristic of all these old patri- 
archs was the warmth of their affections. Differing in degree as 
to moral worth, they were all affectionate men. So, after all that 
Christianity has done for us, after all the world’s growth and pro- 
gress, we find no pictures of love in family life more delicate and 
tender than are given in these patriarchal stories. No husband 
could be more loyally devoted to a wife than Abraham ; no lover 
exhibit less of the eagerness of selfish passion and more of en- 
during devotion than Jacob, who counted seven years of servi- 
tude as nothing, for the love he bare his Rachael; and, for a 
picture of parental tenderness, the story of Joseph stands alone 
and unequalled in human literature. 

In the patriarchal families, as here given, women seem to 
have reigned as queens of the interior. Even when polygamy 


INTRODUCTION. 


was practiced, the monogamic affection was still predominant. 
In the case of Abraham and Jacob, it appears to have been from 
no wandering of the affections, but from a desire of offspring, 
or the tyranny of custom, that a second wife was imposed. 

Female chastity was jealously guarded. When a young prince 
seduced Dinah, the daughter of Jacob, although offering honor- 
able marriage, with any amount of dowry, the vengeance of 
the brothers could only be appeased by blood; and the his- 
tory of Joseph shows that purity was regarded as a virtue in 
man as well as in woman. Such, then, was the patriarchal 
stock, — the seed-form of the great and chosen nation. Let 
us now glance at the influences which nourished it through 
the grand growth of the prophetic or national period, up to 
the time of its consummate blossom and fruit in the Christian 
era. 

Moses was the great lawgiver to mold this people into a na- 
tion. His institutes formed a race of men whose vital force has 
outlived conquest, persecution, dispersion, and every possible 
cause which could operate to destroy a nationality; so that, 
even to our time, talent and genius spring forth from the un- 
wasted vigor of these sons and daughters of Abraham. The 
remarkable vigor and vitality of the Jewish race, their power 
of adaptation to every climate, and of bearing up under the 
most oppressive and disadvantageous circumstances, have at- 
tracted the attention of the French government, and two suc- 
cessive commissions of inquiry, with intervals of three or four 
years between, have been instituted, ‘on the causes of the 
health and longevity of the Jewish race.” 

In the “Israelite” of February 9, 1866, we have, on this sub- 
ject, the report of M. Legoyt, chief of a division of the ministry 
of commerce and public works, one of the first statisticians of 
France. He says: “‘ We have seen that all the documents put 
together are affirmative of an exceptional vitality of the Jews. 
How can this phenomenon be explained? Dietrici, after having 
demonstrated its existence in Prussia, thinks it is to be attributed 
to greater temperance, a better regulated life, and purer morals. 
This is likewise the opinion of Drs. Neufville, Glatter, and Meyer. 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


Cases of drunkenness, says Dietrici, frequent among the Chris- 
tians, occur very rarely among the Jews. This regularity and 
discipline, and greater self-control, of Jewish life is confirmed by 
the criminal statistics of Prussia, which show fewer Jews con- 
demned for crime.” 

M. Legoyt goes on to account for this longevity and excep- 
_ tional vitality of the Jews by the facts of their family life: that 
early marriages are more common; that great care is taken to 
provide for the exigencies of marriage; that there are fewer 
children born, and thus they are better cared for; that family 
feeling is more strongly developed than in other races; that the 
Jewish mother is the nurse of her own infant, and that great 
care and tenderness are bestowed on young children. 

It is evident that the sanitary prescriptions of the Mosaic law 
have an important bearing on the health. If we examine these 
laws of Moses, we shall find that they consist largely in dietetic 
and sanitary regulations, in directions for detecting those diseases 
which vitiate the blood, and removing the subjects of them from 
contact with their fellows. 

But the greatest peculiarity of the institutes of Moses is their 
care of family life. They differed from the laws of all other 
ancient nations by making the family the central point of the 
state. In Rome and Greece, and in antiquity generally, the 
ruling purpose was war and conquest. War was the normal 
condition of the ancient world. The state was for the most 
part a camp under martial law, and the interests of the family 
fared hardly. The laws of Moses, on the contrary, contemplated 
a peaceful community of land-holders, devoted to agriculture 
and domestic life. The land of Canaan was divided into home- 
steads; the homestead was inalienable in families, and could be 
sold only for fifty years, when it reverted again to the original 
heirs. All these regulations gave a quality of stability and per- 
petuity to the family. We have also some striking laws which 
show how, when brought into immediate comparison, family life 
is always considered the first; for instance, see Deuteronomy xxiv. 
5: “When a man hath taken a new wife he shall not go out to 
war, neither shall he be charged with any business; but he shall 


INTRODUCTION. 


be free at home one year, and shall cheer up his wife which 
he hath taken.” What can more strongly show the delicate care 
of woman, and the high regard paid to the family, than this? It 
was more important to be a good husband and make his wife 
happy than to win military glory or perform public service of 
any kind. 

The same regard for family life is shown, in placing the father 
and the mother as joint objects of honor and veneration, in the 
Ten Commandments: ‘‘ Honor thy father and thy mother, that thy 
days may be long in the land that the Lord thy God giveth thee.” 
Among the Greeks, the wife was a nonentity, living in the seclu- 
sion of the women’s apartments, and never associated publicly 
with her husband as an equal. In Rome, the father was all in all 
in the family, and held the sole power of life and death over his 
wife and children. Among the Jews, the wife was the co-equal 
queen of the home, and was equally honored and obeyed with 
her husband. Lest there should be any doubt as to the position 
of the mother, the command is solemnly reiterated, and the mother 
placed first in order: ‘‘ And the Lord spake to Moses, speak unto 
the children of Israel and say unto them, Ye shall be holy, for I 
the Lord your God am holy. Ye shall fear every man his 
MOTHER and his father. I am the Lord.” (Lev. xix. 3.) How 
solemn is the halo of exaltation around the mother in this pass- 
age, opened with all the authority of God, — calling to highest 
holiness, and then exalting the mother and the father as, next 
to God, objects of reverence ! 

Family government was backed by all the authority of the 
state, but the power of life and death was not left in the parents’ 
hands. Ifa son proved stubborn and rebellious, utterly refusing 
domestic discipline, then the father and the mother were to unite 
in bringing him before the civil magistrates, who condemned him 
to death. But the mother must appear and testify, before the 
legal act was accomplished, and thus the power of restraining 
the stronger passions of the man was left with her. 

The laws of Moses also teach a degree of delicacy and con- 
sideration, in the treatment of women taken captives in war, that 


was unparalleled in those ages. With one consent, in all other 
3 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


ancient nations, the captive woman was a slave, with no pro- 
tection for chastity. Compare with this the spirit of the law of 
Moses: ‘If thou seest among thy captives a beautiful woman, 
and hast a desire unto her that thou wouldst have her to wife, 
then thou shalt bring her to thy house, and she shall remain in 
thy house and bewail her father and mother a full month; and 
after that thou shalt go in unto her and be her husband, and she 
shall be thy wife.” Here is consideration, regard to womanly 
feeling, and an opportunity for seeking the affection of the captive 
by kindness. The law adds, furthermore, that if the man change 
his mind, and do not wish to marry her after this time for closer 
acquaintance, then he shall give her her liberty, and allow her 
to go where she pleases: ‘Thou shalt not sell her at all for 
money, thou shalt not make merchandise of her, because thou 
hast humbled her.” 

The laws of Moses did not forbid polygamy, but they secured 
to the secondary wives such respect and attention as made the 
maintenance of many of them a matter of serious difficulty. 
Everywhere we find Moses interposing some guard to the help- 
lessness of the woman, softening and moderating the harsh cus- 
toms of ancient society in her favor. Men were not allowed 
to hold women-servants merely for the gratification of a tem- 
porary passion, without assuming the obligations of a husband. 
Thus we find the following restraint on the custom of buying a 
handmaid or concubine: ‘If a man sell his daughter to be a 
maid-servant, she shall not go out to work as the men-servants 
do, and, if she please not her master which hath betrothed her 
to himself, then shall he let her be redeemed; he shall have no 
power to sell her unto a stranger, seeing he hath dealt deceitfully 
with her. And if he have betrothed her to his son, he shall deal 
with her as a daughter. And if he take another wife, her food 
and her raiment, and her duty of marriage shall he not diminish. 
And if he do not these three things unto her, then shall she go 
out free without money.” (ix. xxi. 7.) This law, in fact, gave 
to every concubine the rights and immunities of a legal wife, and 
in default of its provisions she recovered her liberty. Thus, 
also, we find a man is forbidden to take two sisters to wife, and 


INTRODUCTION. 


the feelings of the first wife are expressly mentioned as the rea- 
son: “Thou shalt not take unto thy wife her sister to vex her 
during her lifetime.” 

In the same manner it was forbidden to allow personal favor- 
itism to influence the legal rights of succession belonging to 
children of different wives. (Deut. xxi. 15.) ‘If a man have 
two wives, one beloved and the other hated, and they have both 
borne him children, and if the firstborn son be hers that is 
hated, then, when he maketh his sons to inherit, he may not 
make the son of the beloved firstborn, but he shall acknowl- 
edge the son of the hated for the firstborn.” 

If a man slandered the chastity of his wife before marriage, 
she or her relations had a right to bring him before a tribunal of 
the elders, and, failing to substantiate his accusations, he was 
heavily fined and the right of divorce taken from him. 

By thus hedging in polygamy with the restraints of serious 
obligations and duties, and making every concubine a wife, enti- 
tled to claim all the privileges of a wife, Moses prepared the way 
for its gradual extinction. For since it could not be a mere 
temporary connection involving no duty on the man’s part, since 
he could not sell or make merchandise of the slave when he was 
tired of her, since the children had a legal claim to support, — it 
became a serious matter to increase the number of wives. The 
kings of Israel were expressly forbidden to multiply wives; and 
the disobedience of Solomon, who followed the custom of Orien- 
tal sovereigns, is mentioned with special reprobation, as calling 
down the judgments of God upon his house. 

The result of all this was, that in the course of time polygamy 
fell into disuse among the Jews; and, after the Babylonian cap- 
tivity, when a more strenuous observance of the laws of Moses 
was enforced, it almost entirely ceased.* In the time of Christ 
and the Apostles, the Jews had become substantially a mono- 
gamic nation. 

Another peculiarity in the laws of Moses is the equality of 
the treatment of man and woman. Among other nations, adultery 
was punished severely in the wife, and lightly, if at all, in the 


* Michaelis, Laws of Moses, III. 5, § 95. 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


husband. According to the Jewish law, it was punished by the 
death of both parties. If aman seduced a girl, he was obliged 
to marry her; and forcible violation was punished by death. 

While in many other nations, prostitution, in one form or 
other, formed part of the services of the temple and the revenues 
of the state, it was enacted that the wages of such iniquity 
should not be received into the treasury of the Lord; and, 
finally, it was enjoined that there should be no prostitute among 
the daughters of Israel. (Deut. xxiii. 17, 18.) 

In all that relates to the details of family life, the laws of 
Moses required great temperance and government of the pas- 
sions; and, undoubtedly, these various restraints and religious 
barriers raised by the ceremonial law around the wife and 
mother are one great reason of the vigor of the Jewish women 
and the uncorrupted vitality of the race. 

The law of Moses on divorce, though expressly spoken of by 
Christ as only a concession or adaptation to a low state of 
society, still was, in its day, on the side of protection to women. 
A man could not put his wife out of doors at any caprice of 
changing passion: a legal formality was required, which would, 
in those times, require the intervention of a Levite to secure 
the correctness of the instrument. This would bring the matter 
under the cognizance of legal authority, and tend to check the 
rash exercise of the right by the husband. The final result of 
all this legislation, enforced from age to age by Divine judg- 
ments, and by the warning voices of successive prophets, was, 
that the Jewish race, instead of sinking into licentiousness, 
and losing stamina and vigor, as all the other ancient nations 
did, became essentially a chaste and vigorous people, and is so 
to this day. 

The comparison of the literature of any ancient nation with 
that of the Jews strikingly demonstrates this. ‘The uncleanness 
and obscenity of much of the Greek and Roman literature is in 
wonderful contrast to the Jewish writings in the Bible and 
Apocrypha, where vice is never made either ludicrous or attrac- 
tive, but mentioned only with horror and reprobation. 

If we consider now the variety, the elevation, and the number 


INTRODUCTION. 


of female characters in sacred history, and look to the corre- 
sponding records of other nations, we shall see the results of this 
culture of women. ‘The nobler, the heroic elements were devel- 
oped among the Jewish women by the sacredness and respect 
which attached to family life. The veneration which surrounded 
motherhood, and the mystic tradition coming down through the 
ages that some Judzean mother should give birth to the great 
Saviour and Regenerator of mankind, consecrated family life 
with a devout poetry of emotion. Every cradle was hallowed 
by the thought of that blessed child who should be the hope of 
the world. 

Another cause of elevation of character among Jewish women 
was their equal liability to receive the prophetic impulse. A 
prophet was, by virtue of his inspiration, a public teacher, and 
the leader of the nation, — kings and magistrates listened to his 
voice; and this crowning glory was from time to time bestowed 
on women. 

We are informed in 2 Kings xxi. 14, that in the reign of 
King Josiah, when a crisis of great importance arose with re- 
spect to the destiny of the nation, the king sent a deputation 
of the chief priests and scribes to inquire of the word of the Lord 
from Huldah the prophetess, and, that they received her word 
as the highest authority. This was while the prophet Jeremiah 
was yet a young man. 

The prophetess was always a poetess, and some of the earliest 
records of female poetry in the world are of this kind. A lofty 
enthusiasm of patriotism also distinguishes the Jewish women, 
and in more than one case in the following sketches we shall see 
them the deliverers of their country. Corresponding to these 
noble women of sacred history, what examples have we in pol- 
ished Greece? The only women who were allowed mental cul- 
ture — who studied, wrote, and enjoyed the society of philoso- 
phers and of learned men — were the courtesans. Jor chaste 
wives and mothers there was no career and no record. 

In the Roman state we see the influence upon woman of a 
graver style of manhood and a more equal liberty in the cus- 
toms of society. In Rome there were sacred women, devoted 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


to religion, and venerated accordingly. They differed, however, 
from the inspired women of Jewish history in being entirely 
removed from the experiences of family life. The vestal virgins 
were bound by cruel penalties to a life of celibacy. So far as 
we know, there is not a Jewish prophetess who is not also a 
wife, and the motherly character is put forward as constituting 
a claim to fitness in public life. ‘I, Deborah, arose a mother 
in Israel.” That pure ideal of a sacred woman springing from 
the bosom of the family, at once wife, mother, poetess, leader, 
inspirer, prophetess, is peculiar to sacred history. 


WOMEN OF THE PATRIARCHAL AGES, 


SARAH THE PRINCESS. 


7A 7 NE woman in the Christian dispensation has received 
| Rot E 1 a special crown of honor. Sarah, the wife of Abraham, 
=j-| mother of the Jewish nation, is to this day an object 
of traditional respect and homage in the Christian 
Church. Her name occurs in the marriage service as an ex- 
ample for the Christian wife, who is exhorted to meekness and 
obedience by St. Peter, ‘“‘ Even as Sarah obeyed Abraham, call- 
ing him lord; whose daughters ye are, so long as ye do well, 
and are not subject to a slavish fear.” 

In turning to the narrative of the Old Testament, however, we 
are led to feel that in setting Sarah before wives as a model of 
conjugal behavior, no very alarming amount of subjection or sub- 


mission is implied. 

The name Sarah means “ princess”; and from the Bible story 
we infer that, crowned with the power of eminent beauty, and 
fully understanding the sovereignty it gave her over man, Sarah 
was virtually empress and mistress of the man she called ‘“ lord.” 
She was a woman who understood herself and him, and was too 
wise to dispute the title when she possessed the reality of sway ; 
and while she called Abraham “lord,” it is quite apparent from 
certain little dramatic incidents that she expected him to use his 
authority in the line of her wishes. 

In going back to these Old Testament stories, one feels a cease- 
less admiration of the artless simplicity of the primitive period 
of which they are the only memorial. The dew of earth’s early 
morning lies on it, sparkling and undried; and the men and 
women speak out their hearts with the simplicity of little chil- 
dren. 


In Abraham we see the man whom God designed to be the 
4 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


father of a great sacerdotal nation; through whom, in the full- 
ness of time, should come the most perfect revelation of himself 
to man, by Jesus Christ. In choosing the man to found such 
a nation, the Divine Being rejected the stormy and forcible 
characters which command the admiration of rude men in early 
ages, and chose one of gentler elements. 

Abraham was distinguished for a loving heart, a tender domes- 
tic nature, great reverence, patience, and fidelity, a childlike 
simplicity of faith, and a dignified self-possession. Yet he was 
not deficient in energy or courage when the event called for them. 
When the warring tribes of the neighborhood had swept his kins- 
man, Lot, into captivity, Abraham came promptly to the rescue, 
and, with his three hundred trained servants, pursued, vanquished, 
and rescued. Though he loved not battle, when roused for a 
good cause he fought to some purpose. 

Over the heart of such a man, a beautiful, queenly woman 
held despotic sway. ‘Traveling with her into the dominions 
of foreign princes, he is possessed by one harassing fear. The 
beauty of this woman,—will it not draw the admiration of 
marauding powers? And shall I not be murdered, or have her 
torn from me? And so, twice, Abraham resorts to the stratagem 
of concealing their real relation, and speaking of her as his sister. 
The Rabbinic traditions elaborate this story with much splendor 
of imagery. According to them, Abraham being obliged by 
famine to sojourn in Egypt, rested some days by the river 
Nile; and as he and Sarah walked by the banks of the river, 
and he beheld her wonderful beauty reflected in the water, he 
was overwhelmed with fear lest she should be taken from him, 
or that he should be slain for her sake. So he persuaded her 
to pass as his sister; for, as he says, ‘she was the daughter 
of my father, but not of my mother.” The legend goes on to 
say, that, as a further precaution, he had her placed in a chest 
to cross the frontier; and when the custom-house officers met 
them, he offered to pay for the box whatever they might ask, to 
pass it free. 

‘Does it contain silks?” asked the officers. 

“T will pay the tenth as of silk,” he replied. 


SARAH THE PRINCESS. 


“Does it contain silver?” they inquired. 

“T will pay for it as silver,” answered Abraham. 

“Nay, then, it must contain gold.” 

“T will pay for it as gold.” 

“May be it contains most costly gems.” 

“TY will pay for it as gems,” he persisted. 

In the struggle the box was broken open, and in it was seated 
a beautiful woman whose countenance illumined all Egypt. The 
news reached the ears of Pharaoh, and he sent and took her. 

In comparing these Rabinnic traditions with the Bible, one is 
immediately struck with the difference in quality, — the dignified 
simplicity of the sacred narrative contrasts forcibly with the fan- 
tastic elaborations of tradition. : 

The Rabbinic and Alcoranic stories are valuable, however, as 
showing how profound an impression the personality of these 
characters had left on mankind. The great characters of the 
Biblical story, though in themselves simple, seemed, like the sun, 
to raise around them many-colored and vaporous clouds of myth 
and story. The warmth of their humanity kept them enwreathed 
in a changing mist of human sympathies. 

The falsehoods which Abraham tells are to be estimated not by 
the modern, but by the ancient standard. In the earlier days of 
the world, when physical force ruled, when the earth was covered 
with warring tribes, skill in deception was counted as one of the 
forms of wisdom. ‘The crafty Ulysses” is spoken of with honor 
through the ‘‘ Odyssey ” for his skill in dissembling ; and the Lace- 
demonian youth were punished, not for stealing or lying, but for 
performing these necessary operations in a bungling, unskillful 
manner. | 

In a day when it was rather a matter of course for a prince to 
help himself to a handsome woman wherever he could find her, 
and kill her husband if he made any objections, a weaker party 
entering the dominions of a powerful prince was under the laws 
of war. 

In our nineteenth century we have not yet grown to such 
maturity as not to consider false statements and stratagem as 
legitimate war policy in dealing with an enemy. Abraham’s ruse 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


is not, therefore, so very far behind even the practice of modern 
Christians. That he should have employed the same fruitless 
stratagem twice, seems to show that species of infatuation on the 
one subject of a beloved woman, which has been the “last infirm- 
ity” of some otherwise strong and noble men, — wise everywhere 
else, but weak there. 

The Rabbinic legends represent Sarah as being an object of 
ardent admiration to Pharaoh, who pressed his suit with such 
vehemence that she cried to God for deliverance, and told the 
king that she was a married woman. ‘Then — according to this 
representation — he sent her away with gifts, and even extended 
his complacency so far as to present her with his daughter Hagar 
as a handmaid, — a legend savoring more of national pride than 
of probability. 

In the few incidents related of Sarah she does not impress us 
as anything more than the beautiful princess of a nomadic tribe, 
with many virtues and the failings that usually attend beauty 
and power. 

With all her advantages of person and station, Sarah still wanted 
what every woman of antiquity considered the crowning glory of 
womanhood. She was childless. By an expedient common in 
those early days, she gives her slave as second wife to her hus- 
band, whose child shall be her own. The Rabbinic tradition says 
that up to this time Hagar had been tenderly beloved by Sarah. 
The prospect, however, of beg mother to the heir of the family 
seems to have turned the head of the handmaid, and broken the | 
bonds of friendship between them. 

In its usual naive way, the Bible narrative represents Sarah as — 
scolding her patient husband for the results which came from fol- 
lowing her own advice. Thus she complains, in view of Hagar’s 
insolence: ‘“My wrong be upon thee. I have given my maid 
unto thy bosom, and when she saw that she had conceived, I was 
despised in her eyes. The Lord judge between thee and me.” 

We see here the eager, impulsive, hot-hearted woman, accus- 
tomed to indulgence, impatient of trouble, and perfectly certain 
that she is in the right, and that the Lord himself must think so. 
Abraham, as a well-bred husband, answers pacifically: “ Behold, 


SARAH THE PRINCESS. 


thy maid is in thy hand, to do as pleaseth thee.” And so it 
pleased Sarah to deal so hardly with her maid that she fled to the 
wilderness. 

Finally, the domestic broil adjusts itself. The Divine Father, 
who watches alike over all his creatures, sends back the im- 
petuous slave from the wilderness, exhorted to patience, and com- 
forted with a promise of a future for her son. 

Then comes the beautiful idyl of the three angels, who an- 
nounce the future birth of the long-desired heir. We could 
wish all our readers, who may have fallen out of the way of 
reading the Old Testament, to turn again to the eighteenth chap- 
ter of Genesis, and see the simple picture of those olden days. 
Notice the beautiful hospitality of reception. The Emir rushes 
himself to his herd to choose the fatted calf, and commands the 
princess to make ready the meal, and knead the cakes. Then 
comes the repast. ‘The announcement of the promised blessing, 
at which Sarah laughs in incredulous surprise; the grave rebuke 
of the angels, and Sarah’s white lie, with the angel’s steady an- 
swer, — are all so many characteristic points of the story. Sarah, 
in all these incidents, is, with a few touches, made as real flesh 
and blood as any woman in the pages of Shakespeare, — not a 
saint, but an average mortal, with all the foibles, weaknesses, and 
variabilities that pertain to womanhood, and to womanhood in an 
eaily age of imperfectly developed morals. 

We infer from the general drift of the story, that Sarah, like most 
warm-hearted and passionate women, was, in the main, a kindly, 
motherly creature, and that, when her maid returned and submit- 
ted, she was reconciled to her. At all events, we find that the son 
of the bondwoman was born and nurtured under her roof, along 
with her own son Isaac. It is in keeping with our conception of 
Sarah, that she should at times have overwhelmed Hagar with 
kindness, and helped her through tlie trials of motherhood, and 
petted the little Ishmael till he grew too saucy to be endured. 

The Jewish mother nursed her child three years. The wean- 
ing was made a great féte, and Sarah’s maternal exultation at this 
crisis of her life, displayed itself in festal preparations. We hear 
her saying: ‘‘God hath made me to laugh, so that all that hear 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


will laugh with me. Who would have said unto Abraham that 
Sarah should have given children suck? for I have borne him a 
son in his old age.” 

In the height of this triumph, she saw the son of the Egyptian 
woman mocking, and all the hot blood of the woman, mother, and 
princess flushed up, and she said to her husband: “Cast out this 
bondwoman and her son; for the son of this bondwoman shall 
not be heir with my son, even with Isaac.” 

We are told “the ee was very grievous in Abraham’s er 
because of his son.” But a higher power confirms the hasty, 
instinctive impulse of the mother. The God of nations saw in 
each of these infant boys the seed-forms of a race with a history 
and destiny apart from each other, and Abraham is comforted 
with the thought that a fatherly watch will be kept over both. 

Last of all we come to the simple and touching announcement 
of the death of this woman, so truly loved to the last. “ And 
Sarah was a hundred and seven and twenty years old: these were 
the years of the life of Sarah. And Sarah died in Kirjath-arba; 
the same is Hebron in the land of Canaan; and Abraham came to 
mourn for Sarah, and to weep for her.” It is a significant token of 
the magnificent physical vigor with which that early age was en- 
dowed, that now, for the first time, the stroke of death has fallen 
on the family of Abraham, and he is forced to seek a burial-place. 
Sarah, the beautiful princess, the crowned mother of a great 
nation, the beloved wife, is dead; and Abraham, constant lover 
in age as youth, lays her away with tears. ‘To him she is ever 
young; for love confers on its object eternal youth. 

A beautiful and peculiar passage in the history describes the 
particulars of the purchase of this burial-place. All that love can 
give to the fairest, most beautiful, and dearest is a tomb; and 
Abraham refuses to take as a gift from the nobles of the land 
so sacred a spot. It must be wholly his own, bought with his 
own money. The sepulchre of Machpelah, from the hour it was 
consecrated by the last sleep of the mother of the tribe, became 
the calm and sacred resting-place to which the eyes of children’s 
children turned. So Jacob, her grandson, in his dying hour, 
remembered it : — 


SARAH THE PRINCESS. 


“Bury me with my fathers in the cave that is in the field: 
of Ephron the Hittite. There they buried Abraham and Sarah 
his wife; there they buried Isaac and Rebekah his wife, and 
there I buried Leah.” | 

Two powerful and peculiar nations still regard this sepulchre 
with veneration, and cherish with reverence the memory of Sarah 
the Princess. 


%) 


ied j 
Se a 
BN 


’ Paget) ¢ 


4% ) 
hee hg 


SEE PELL PRS RE Aa VTE aaa | 


: 


A NA NN RAR a RN AE ET A NE NO RR BI NI MMIC Ta hr 


Ce ee _ — as 
oor one oe ery RE EE RTI 


HAGAR THE SLAVE. 


STRIKING pendant to the picture of Sarah the Prin- 
cess is that of Hagar the Slave. 

In the Bible narrative she is called simply Hagar 
the Egyptian; and as Abraham sojourned some time in 
the land of Egypt, we are to suppose that this acquisition to the 
family was then made. Slavery, in the early patriarchal period, 
had few of the horrors which beset it in more modern days. The 
condition of a slave more nearly resembled that of the child of 
the house than that of a modern servant. The slave was looked 
upon, in default of children, as his master’s heir, as was the case 
with Eliezer of Damascus, the confidential servant of Abraham ; 
the latter, when speaking to God of his childless condition says: 
“To! one born in my house is mine heir.” In like manner 
there is a strong probability in the legend which represents 
Hagar as having been the confidential handmaid of Sarah, and 
treated by her with peculiar tenderness. 

When the fear of being childless seized upon her, Sarah was 
willing to exalt one, who was as a second self to her, to the rank 
of an inferior wife, according to the customs of those early days; 
intending to adopt and treat as her own the child of her. hand- 
maid. But when the bondwoman found herself thus exalted, and 
when the crowning honor of prospective motherhood was con- 
ferred upon her, her ardent tropical blood boiled over in unseemly 
exultation, — ‘‘ her mistress was despised in her’ eyes.” 

Probably under the flapping curtains of the pastoral tent, as 
under the silken hangings of palaces, there were to be found 
flatterers and mischief-makers ready to fill the weak, credulous 
ear with their suggestions. Hagar was about to become mother 
of the prince and heir of the tribe; her son one day should be 


their chief and ruler, while Sarah, childless and uncrowned, 
5 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


should sink to a secondary rank. Why should she obey the 
commands of Sarah? 

Our idea of Sarah is that of a warm-hearted, generous, boun- 
tiful woman, with an intense sense of personal dignity and 
personal rights, —just the woman to feel herself beyond measure 
outraged by this unexpected result of what she must have looked 
upon as unexampled favor. In place of a grateful, devoted 
creature, identified with her interests, whose child should be to her 
as her own child, she finds herself confronted with an imperious 
rival, who lays claim to her place and position. 

The struggle was one that has been witnessed many a time 
since in families so constituted, and with such false elements. 
Abraham, peace-loving and quiet, stands neutral; confident, as 
many men are, of the general ability of the female sex, by in- 
scrutable ways and methods of their own, to find their way out 
of the troubles they bring themselves into. Probably he saw 
wrong on both sides; yet Hagar, as the dependent, who owed 
all the elevation on which she prided herself to the good-will of 
her mistress, was certainly the more in fault of the two; and so 
he dismisses the subject with: “Thy maid is in thy hand; do 
with her as pleaseth thee.” 

The next we hear of the proud, hot-hearted, ungoverned slave- 
girl, is her flight to the wilderness in a tumult of indignation and 
erief, doubtless after bitter words and hard usage from the once 
indulgent mistress. But now comes into the history the presence 
of the Father God, in whose eye all human beings are equal, and 
who looks down on the boiling strifes and hot passions of us all 
below, as a mother on the quarrels of little children in the 
nursery. For this was the world’s infancy, and each character 
in the drama represented a future nation for whom the All-Father 
was caring. 

So when the violent, desolate creature had sobbed herself 
weary in the lonesome desert, the story says: ‘And the angel 
of the Lord found her by a fountain of water, in the way to 
Shur. And he said, Hagar, Sarah’s maid, whence camest thou ? 
and whither wilt thou go? And she said, I flee from the face 
of my mistress, Sarah.” 


HAGAR THE SLAVE. 


In this calm question there is a reminder of duty violated, and 
in the submissive answer is an acknowledgment of that duty. 
The angel calls her “ Sarah’s maid,” and she replies, “my mis- 
tress, Sarah.” 

“And the angel of the Lord said unto her, Return to thy 
mistress, and submit thyself under her hands.” Then, as with 
awe and submission she rises to go, she is comforted with prom- 
ises of gracious tenderness. ‘The All-Father does not take part 
with her in her rebellious pride, nor in her haughty desire to 
usurp the station and honors of her mistress, and yet he has sym- 
pathy for that strong, awakening feeling of motherhood which 
makes the wild girl of the desert begin at once to crave station 
and place on earth for the son she is to bring into it. So the story 
goes on: ‘ And the angel of the Lord said unto her, I will multiply 
thy seed exceedingly, that it shall not be numbered for multitude. 
And the angel of the Lord said unto her, Behold, thou art with 
child, and shalt bear a son, and shalt call his name Ishmael, 
because the Lord hath heard thy affliction. And he will be a 
wild man; his hand will be against every man, and every man’s 
hand against him; and he shall dwell in the presence of all his 
brethren. And she called the name of the Lord that spake unto 
her, Thou God seest me: for she said, Have I also here looked 
after him that seeth me?” 

This little story is so universally and beautifully significant of 
our every-day human experience, that it has almost the force 
of an allegory. | 

Who of us has not yielded to despairing grief, while flowing 
by us were unnoticed sources of consolation? The angel did not 
create the spring in the desert: it was there all the while, but 
Hagar was blinded by her tears. She was not seeking God, 
but he was seeking her. How often may we, all of us, in the 
upliftings and deliverances of our life, say as she did, ‘“‘ Have I © 
here looked after him that seeth me?” 

The narrative adds, ‘‘ Wherefore the spring was called The 
Well of Him that Liveth and Seeth Me.” 

That spring is still flowing by our daily path. 

So, quieted and subdued and comforted, Hagar returns to her 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


mistress and her home, and we infer from the story, that, with 
submission on her part, kindness and bounty returned on the part 
of her mistress. She again becomes a member of the family. 
Her son is born, and grows up for twelve years under the shadow 
of Abraham’s tent, and evidently, from the narrative, is fondly 
beloved by his father, and indulgently treated by his foster- 
mother. 

In an hour of confidential nearness the Divine Father an- 
nounces to Abraham that a son shall be given him by the 
wife of his heart. 

‘As for Sarah, thy wife, I will bless her, and give thee a son 
of her, and she shall be a mother of nations; kings of people shall 
be of her. Then Abraham fell upon his face and laughed, and 
said in his heart: Shall a child be born to him that is an hundred 
years old, and shall Sarah, that is ninety years old, bear?” Yet, 
in this moment of triumphant joy, his heart yearns after Ishmael ; 
“And Abraham said unto God: O that Ishmael might live 
before thee!” And the Divine answer is: “As for Ishmael, I 
have heard thee. Behold, I have blessed him, and will make 
him fruitful, and will multiply him exceedingly; twelve princes 
shall he beget, and I will make him a great nation.” 

But now comes the hour long waited for, of Sarah’s triumph, — 
the fulfillment of the desires of her life. A generous heart would 
have sympathized in her triumph. A mother who had known the 
blessedness of motherhood would have rejoiced when the mistress 
who had done so much for her was made so joyful. If her own 
son be not the heir in succession, yet an assured future is prom- 
ised to him. But the dark woman and her wild son are of un- 
tamable elements. They can no more become one in spirit with 
the patriarchal family, than oil can mix with water. When the 
weaning feast is made, and all surround the little Isaac, when the 
* mother’s heart overflows with joy, she sees the graceless Ishmael 
mocking; and instantly, with a woman’s lightning prescience, 
she perceives the dangers, the impossibilities of longer keeping 
these aliens under the same roof, —the feuds, the jealousies, the 
fierce quarrels of the future. 

“Cast out this bondwoman and her son,” she says, with the 


HAGAR THE SLAVE. 


air of one accustomed to command and decide; ‘for the son 
of this bondwoman shall not be heir with my son, even with 
Isaac.” 

It appears that Abraham had set his heart on the boy, and had 
hoped to be able to keep both in one family, and divide his 
inheritance between them; but it was otherwise decreed. ‘And 
God said to Abraham, Let it not be grievous in thy sight, because 
of the lad and because of thy bondwoman: in all that Sarah hath 
said unto thee, hearken unto her voice; for in Isaac shall thy seed 
be called. And also of the son of the bondwoman will I make a 
nation, because he is thy seed. And Abraham arose up early, 
and took bread and a bottle of water and gave it to Hagar, put- 
ting it on her shoulder, and sent her away with the child; and she 
departed and wandered in the wilderness of Beersheba.” Prob- 
ably she was on the road towards Egypt. ‘And the water was 
all spent in the bottle, and she cast the child under one of the 
shrubs; and she went away and sat her down over against him 
a good way off, as it were a bow-shot, for she said, Let me not 
see the death of the child; and she lifted up her voice and wept.” 

Poor, fiery, impatient creature !— moaning like a wounded leop- 
ardess, — apparently with no heart to remember the kindly Power 
that once before helped her in her sorrows; but the story 
goes on: “And God heard the voice of the lad; and the angel 
of the Lord called to Hagar out of heaven, and said unto 
her, What aileth thee, Hagar? Fear not, for God hath heard the 
voice of the lad where he is. Arise, lift up the lad, and hold 
him in thy hand; for I will make of him a great nation. And 
God opened her eyes, and she saw a well of water; and she 
went and filled the bottle with water and gave the lad drink. 
And God was with the lad, and he grew, and dwelt in the 
wilderness and became an archer. And he dwelt in the wilder- 
ness of Paran; and his mother took him a wife out of the land 
of Egypt.” : 

In all this story, nothing impresses us so much as the absence 
of all modern technical or theological ideas respecting the God 
who is represented here as sowing the seed of nations with a wise 
foresight of the future. As a skillful husbandman, bent on per- 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


fecting a certain seed, separates it from all others, and grows’ it 
by itself, so the Bible tells us that God selected a certain stock to 
be trained and cultivated into the sacerdotal race, through which 
should come his choicest revelations to man. Of this race in its 
final outcome and perfected flowering was to spring forth Jesus, 
spoken of as the Branca of this sacred tree. For the formation of 
this race, we see a constant choice of the gentler and quieter ele- 
ments of blood and character, and the persistent rejection of that 
which is wild, fierce, and ungovernable. Yet it is with no fond 
partiality for the one, or antipathy to the other, that the Father 
of both thus decides. ‘The thoughtful, patient, meditative Isaac 
is chosen; the wild, hot-blooded, impetuous Ishmael is rejected, 
— not as in themselves better or worse, but as in relation to their 
adaptation to a great purpose of future good to mankind. The 
ear of the All-Father is as near to the cry of the passionate, hot- 
tempered slave, and the moans of the wild, untamable boy, as to 
those of the patriarch. We are told that God was with Ishmael 
in his wild growth as a hunter in the desert, — his protector from 
harm, the guardian of his growing family, according to the prom- 
ise made to Abraham. 

When the aged patriarch is gathered to his fathers at the age 
of a hundred and seventy-five years, it is recorded: ‘And Abra- 
ham gave up the ghost in a good old age, an old man and full 
of years; and his sons, Isaac and Ishmael, buried him in the 
cave of Machpelah, in the field that Abraham purchased of the 
sons of Heth; there was Abraham buried, and Sarah his wife.” 

The subsequent history of the nation which Ishmael founded, 
shows that the promises of God were faithfully kept. 

The Arab race has ever been a strongly marked people. They 
have been worshipers of the one God, and, at one time, under 
the califs, rose to a superiority in art, science, and literature be- 
yond that of so-called Christian nations. 

The race of Ishmael is yet as vigorous and as peculiar, and as 
likely to perpetuate itself, as the race of Isaac and Jacob; and as 
God was near to the cries and needs of the wild mother of the 
race and her wild offspring, so, doubtless, he has heard the prayer 
that has gone up from many an Arab tent in the desert. 


HAGAR THE SLAVE. 


The besetting sin of a select people is the growth of a spirit 
of haughty self-sufficiency among them. In time the Jews 
came to look upon themselves as God’s only favorites, and 
upon all other nations as outcasts. It is this spirit that is re- 
buked by the prophet Amos (ix.) when, denouncing the recre- 
ant children of Israel, he says, in the name of the Lord: ‘“ Are 
ye not as children of the Ethiopians unto me, O children of 
Israel? saith the Lord. Have not I brought up Israel out of 
the land of Egypt? and the Philistines from Caphtor, and the 
Syrians from Kir?” 

There is a deep comfort in this record of God’s goodness to 
a poor, blinded, darkened, passionate slave-woman, nowise a 
model for imitation, yet tenderly watched over and succored 
and cared for in her needs. The Father unsought is ever seek- 
ing. He who said, ‘‘ What aileth thee, Hagar?” is he who, 
in later times, said that he came to seek and to save the lost. 
Not to the saintly and the righteous only, or mostly, but to 
the wayward, the sinful, the desperate, the despairing, to those 
whose troubles come of their own folly and their own sin, is 
the angel sent to console, to promise, to open the blind eyes 
upon the fountain which is ever near us in life’s desert, though 
we cannot perceive it. 


ee he 
ve at 


oa 


3 Web ere 
endear 5 


/ 


aa? 


ee * ae al 
y halo. 7 
: boas ; ~ 


se. Tt ee, 


= 


=. 


= 
b he 4 
oe Pm 


* 


“ 


REBEKAH THE BRIDE. 


Wea N the pictures which the Bible opens to us of the 
4; domestic life of the patriarchal ages, we have one per- 
fectly characteristic and beautiful idyl of a wooing and 
wedding, according to the customs of those days. In 
its sweetness and sacred simplicity, it is a marvelous contrast 
to the wedding of our modern fashionable life. 

Sarah, the beautiful and beloved, has been laid away in the 
dust, and Isaac, the cherished son, is now forty years old. Forty 
years is yet early youth, by the slow old clock of the golden 
ages, when the thread of mortal life ran out to a hundred and 
seventy-five or eighty years. Abraham has nearly reached that 
far period, and his sun of life is dipping downwards toward the 
evening horizon. He has but one care remaining, — to settle his 
son Isaac in life before he is gathered to his fathers. 

The scene in which Abraham discusses the subject with his 
head servant sheds a peculiar light on the domestic and family 
relations of those days. ‘And Abraham said unto his eldest 
servant of his house, that ruled over all that he had, Put, I pray 
thee, thy hand under my thigh: and I will make thee swear by 
the Lord, the God of heaven, and the God of the earth, that thou 
shalt not take a wife unto my son of the daughters of the Ca- 
naanites, among whom I dwell: but thou shalt go unto my coun- 
try, and to my kindred, and take a wife unto my son Isaac. And 
the servant said unto him, Peradventure the woman will not be 
willing to follow me unto this land: must I needs bring thy son 
again unto the land from whence thou camest? And Abraham 
said unto him, Beware that thou bring not my son thither again. 
The Lord God of heaven, which took me from my father’s house, 
and from the land of my kindred, and which spake unto me, and 
sware unto me, saying, Unto thy seed will I give this land; 

6 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


he shall send his angel before thee, and thou shalt take a wife 
unto my son from thence. And if the woman will not be willing 
to follow thee, then thou shalt be clear from this my oath: 
only bring not my son thither again.” 

Here it is remarkable that the servant is addressed as the legal 
guardian of the son. Abraham does not caution Isaac as to whom 
he should marry, but cautions the old servant of the house con- 
cerning the woman to whom he should marry Isaac. It is appar- 
ently understood that, in case of Abraham’s death, the regency 
in the family falls into the hands of this servant. 

The picture of the preparations made for this embassy denotes 
a princely station and great wealth. ‘And the servant took ten 
camels of the camels of his master, and departed; for all the 
goods of his master were in his hand; and he arose, and went to 
Mesopotamia, unto the city of Nahor.” 

Now comes a quaint and beautiful picture of the manners of 
those pastoral days. ‘And he made his camels to kneel down 
without the city by a well of water, at the time of the evening, 
even the time that women go out to draw water.” 

Next, we have a specimen of the kind of prayer which obtained 
in those simple times, when men felt as near to God as a child 
does to its mother. Kneeling, uncovered, in the evening light, 
the gray old serving-man thus talks to the invisible Protector : — 
“Q Lord God of my master Abraham, I pray thee, send me 
good speed this day, and show kindness unto my master Abra- 

sham. Behold, I stand here by the well of water; and the 
daughters of the men of the city come out to draw water: and 
let it come to pass that the damsel to whom I shall say, Let down 
thy pitcher, I pray thee, that I may drink; and she shall say, 
Drink, and I will give thy camels drink also: let the same be she 
that thou hast appointed for thy servant Isaac; and thereby shall 
I know that thou hast showed kindness unto my master.” 

This is prayer. Not a formal, ceremonious state address to a 
monarch, but the talk of the child with his father, asking simply 
and directly for what is wanted here and now. And the request 
was speedily granted, for thus the story goes on: “And it came 
to pass, before he had done speaking, that, behold, Rebekah 


RHEBEKAH THE BRIDE OF THE GOLDEN AGE. 


came out, who was born to Bethuel, son of Milcah, the wife 
of Nahor, Abraham’s brother.” It is noticeable, how strong is 
the sensibility to womanly beauty in this narrative. This young 
Rebekah is thus announced: ‘And the damsel was very fair to 
look upon, and a virgin, and she went down to the well, and filled 
her pitcher, and came up.” Drawn by the bright eyes and fair 
face, the old servant hastens to apply the test, doubtless hoping 
that this lovely creature is the one appointed for his young mas- 
ter. ‘‘And the servant ran to meet her, and said, Let me, I 
pray thee, drink a little water of thy pitcher. And she said, 
Drink, my lord: and she hastened, and let down her pitcher 
upon her hand, and gave him drink.” She gave with a will, 
with a grace and readiness that overflowed the request; and 
then it is added: ‘And when she had done giving him drink, 
. she said, I will draw water for thy camels also, until they have 
done drinking. And she hasted and emptied her pitcher into the 
trough, and ran again unto the well to draw water, and drew for all 
his camels.” Let us fancy ten camels, all on their knees in a row, 
at the trough, with their long necks, and patient, careworn faces, 
while the pretty young Jewess, with cheerful alacrity, is dashing 
down the water from her pitcher, filling and emptying in quick 
succession, apparently making nothing of the toil; the gray- 
haired old servant looking on in devout recognition of the 
answer to his prayer, for the story says: ‘“ And the man wonder- 
ing at her, held his peace, to wit [know] whether the Lord had 
made his journey prosperous or not.” 

There -was wise penetration into life and the essentials. of 
wedded happiness in this prayer of the old servant. What he 
asked for his young master was not beauty or talent, but a ready 
and unfailing outflow of sympathy and kindness. He sought not 
merely for a gentle nature, a kind heart, but for a heart so 
rich in kindness that it should run even beyond what was 
asked, and be ready to anticipate the request with new devices 
of helpfulness. The lively, light-hearted kindness that could not 
be content with waiting on the thirsty old man, but with cheerful 
alacrity took upon herself the care of all the ten camels, this 
was a gift beyond that of beauty; yet when it came in the 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


person of a maiden exceedingly fair to look upon, no marvel 
that the old man wondered joyously at his success. | 

When the camels had done drinking, he produced from his 
treasury a golden earring and bracelets, with which he adorned 
the maiden. ‘And he said to her, Whose daughter art thou? 
tell me, I pray thee; is there room in thy father’s house for us to 
lodge in? And she said unto him, I am the daughter of Bethuel 
the son of Mileah, which she bare to Nahor. She said, moreover, 
unto him, We have both straw and provender enough, and room 
to lodge in. And the man bowed down his head, and worshiped 
the Lord. And he said, Blessed be the Lord God of my master 
Abraham, who hath not left destitute my master of his mercy 
and his truth: I being in the way, the Lord led me to the house 
of my master’s brethren.” 

We may imagine the gay delight with which the pretty maiden 
ran to exhibit the gifts of jewelry that had thus unexpectedly 
descended upon her. Laban, her brother, does not prove either 
a generous or hospitable person in the outcome of the story; but 
the ambassador of a princely relative, traveling with a caravan 
of ten camels, and showering gold and jewels, makes his own 
welcome. ‘The narrative proceeds: — ‘And it came to pass 
when he saw the earring, and the bracelets upon his sister's 
hands, and when he heard the words of Rebekah his sister, 
saying, Thus spake the man unto me; that he came unto the 
man; and, behold, he stood by the camels at the well. And 
he said, Come in, thou blessed of the Lord; wherefore stand- 
est thou without? for I have prepared the house, and room 
for the camels. And the man came into the house: and he 
ungirded the camels, and gave straw and provender for the 
camels, and water to wash his feet, and the men’s feet that 
were with him. And there was set meat before him to eat: but 
he said, I will not eat, till I have told my errand. And he said, 
Speak on. And he said, Iam Abraham’s servant, and the Lord 
hath blessed my master greatly, and he is become great: and 
he hath given him flocks, and herds, and silver, and gold, and 
men-servants, and maid-servants, and camels, and asses.” 

After this exordium he goes on to tell the whole story of his 


REBEKAH THE BRIDE OF THE GOLDEN AGE. 


oath to his master, and the purport of his journey ; of the prayer 
that he had uttered at the well, and of its fulfillment in a oen- 
erous-minded and beautiful young maiden; and thus he ends his 
story: ‘And I bowed down my head, and worshiped the Lord, 
and blessed the Lord God of my master Abraham, which hath led 
me in the right way to take my master’s brother’s daughter unto 
his son. And now, if ye will deal kindly and truly with my 
master, tell me: and if not, tell me; that I may turn to the right 
hand or to the left. Then Laban and Bethuel answered and 
said, The thing proceedeth from the Lord: we cannot speak unto 
thee bad or good. Behold, Rebekah is before thee; take her, 
and go, and let her be thy master’s son’s wife, as the Lord hath 
spoken. And it came to pass, that when Abraham’s servant 
heard their words, he worshiped the Lord, bowing himself to 
the earth.” 

And now comes a scene most captivating to female curiosity. 
Even in patriarchal times the bridegroom, it seems, provided a 
corbeille de mariage ; for we are told: ‘ And the servant brought 
forth jewels of silver, and jewels of gold, and raiment, and gave 
them to Rebekah; he gave also to her brother and to her mother 
precious things.” ‘The scene of examining jewelry and garments 
and rich stuffs in the family party would have made no mean 
subject for a painter. No wonder such a suitor, sending such 
gifts, found welcome entertainment. So the story goes on: 
“And they did eat and drink, he and the men that were with 
him, and tarried all night; and they rose up in the morning; 
and he said, Send me away unto my master. And her brother 
and her mother said, Let the damsel abide with us a few days, at 
the least ten, and after that she shall go. And he said unto 
them, Hinder me not, seeing the Lord hath prospered my way ; 
send me away, that I may go to my master. And they said, We 
will call the damsel and inquire at her mouth. And they called 
Rebekah, and said unto her, Wilt thou go with this man? And 
she said, I will go. And they sent away Rebekah their sister, 
and her nurse, and Abraham’s servant and his men. And they 
blessed Rebekah, and said unto her, Thou art our sister; be thou 
the mother of thousands of millions, and let thy seed possess 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


the gate of those which hate them.” ‘The idea of being a mother 
of nations gives a sort of dignity to the married life of these 
patriarchal women, —it was the motherly instinct made sublime. 

Thus far, this wooing seems to have been conceived and con- 
ducted in that simple religious spirit recognized in the words of 
the old prayer: “Grant that all our works may be begun, con- 
tinued, and ended in thee.” The Father of Nations has been a 
never-failing presence in every scene. 

The expectant bridegroom seems to have been a youth of 
a pensive, dreamy, meditative nature. Brought up with the 
strictest notions of filial submission, he waits to receive his wife 
dutifully from his father’s hand. Yet, as the caravan nears the 
encampment, he walks forth to meet them. ‘And Isaac went out 
to meditate in the field at the eventide: and he lifted up his 
eyes, and saw, and, behold, the camels were coming. And 
Rebekah lifted up her eyes, and when she saw Isaac, she lighted 
off the camel. For she had said unto the servant, What man is 
this that walketh in the field to meet us? And the servant 
had said, It is my master: therefore she took a veil, and covered 
herself.” 

In the little that is said of Rebekah, we see always that alert 
readiness, prompt to see and do what is to be done at the moment. 
No dreamer is she, but a lively and wide-awake young woman, 
who knows her own mind exactly, and has the fit word and fit 
action ready for each short turn in life.. She was quick, cheerful, 
and energetic in hospitality. She was prompt and unhesitating 
in her resolve; and yet, at the moment of meeting, she knew the 
value and the propriety of the veil. She covered herself, that she 
might not unsought be won. ? 

With a little touch of pathos, the story ends: ‘ And Isaac 
brought her into his mother Sarah’s tent, and took Rebekah, and 
she became his wife ; and he loved her: and Isaac was comforted 
after his mother’s death.” We see liere one of those delicate and 
tender natures that find repose first in the love of a mother, and, 
when that stay is withdrawn, lean upon a beloved wife. 

So ideally pure, and sweet, and tenderly religious has been the 
whole inception and carrying on and termination of this wedding, 


KREBEKAH THE BRIDE OF THE GOLDEN AGE. 


that Isaac and Rebekah have been remembered in the w edding 
ritual of the catholic Christian churches as models of a Hole 
marriage according to the Divine will. ‘Send thy blessing upon 
these be servants, this man and this woman, whom we bless in 
thy name; that as Isaac and Rebekah lived faithfully together, 
so these persons may surely perform and keep the vow “sath cove- 
nant between them.” 

In the subsequent history of the family, the dramatic individu- 
ality of the characters is kept up: Isaac is the gentle, thoughtful, 
misty dreamer, lost in sentiment and contemplation; and Rebekah 
the forward, cheerful, self-confident manager of external things. 
We can fancy it as one of the households where all went as the 
mother said. In‘fact, in mature life, we see these prompt and 
managing traits, leading the matron to domestic artifices which 
could only be justified to herself by her firm belief that the end 
pursued was good enough to sanctify the means. Energetic, 
lively, self-trustful young women do sometimes form just such 
managing and diplomatic matrons. 

Isaac, the husband, always dreamy and meditative, becomes 
old and doting; conceives an inordinate partiality for the turbu- 
lent son Esau, whose skill in hunting supplies his table with the 
meat he loves. Rebekah has heard the prophetic legend, that 
Jacob, the younger son, is the chosen one to perpetuate the sacred 
race; and Jacob, the tender, the care-taking, the domestic,.is the 
idol of her heart. 

Now, there are some sorts of women that, if convinced there 
was such a Divine oracle or purpose in relation to a favorite son, 
would have rested upon it in quiet faith, and left Providence to 
work out its ends in its own way and time. Not so Rebekah. 
The same restless activity of helpfulness that led her to offer water 
to all the camels, when asked to give drink for the servant, now 
led her to come to the assistance of Providence. She proposes 
to Jacob to make the oracle sure, and obtain the patriarchal 
blessing by stratagem. When Jacob expresses a humble doubt 
whether such an artifice may not defeat itself and bring on him 
the curse rather than the blessing of his father, the mother 
characteristically answers: ‘‘ Upon me be the curse, my son: 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


only obey my voice.” Pages of description could not set a char- 
acter before us more sharply and distinctly than this one incident, 
and nothing can show more dramatically in whose hands was the 
ruling power in that family. 

_ The managing, self-reliant Rebekah, ready to do her full 
share in every emergency, and to run before every occasion 
with her busy plannings, is not a character of patriarchal ages 
merely. Every age has repeated it, and our own is no excep- 
tion. There are not wanting among us cheerful, self-confident, 
domestic managers, who might take a lesson from the troubles 
that befell the good-hearted, but too busy and officious Rebekah, 
in consequence of the success of her own schemes. The ac- 
count of this belongs to our next chapter. 


% 
+8 
nt 

; 


LEAH AND RACHEL. 


*>|N the earlier portions of the Old Testament we have, 
very curiously, the history of the deliberate formation 
of an influential race, to which was given a most im- 
portant mission in the world’s history. The principle 
of selection, much talked of now in science, is the principle which 
is represented in the patriarchal history as operating under a di- 
rect Divine guidance. From the calling of Abraham, there seems 
to have been this continued watchfulness in selecting the party 
through whom the chosen race was to be continued. Every 
marriage thus far is divinely appointed and guided. While the 
Fatherly providence and nurture is not withdrawn from the re- 
jected ones, still the greatest care is exercised to separate from 
them the chosen. ‘The latter are selected apparently not so 
much for moral excellence in itself considered, as for excellence 
in relation to stock. ‘The peaceable, domestic, prudent, and con- 
servative elements are uniformly chosen, in preference to the 
warlike and violent characteristics of the age. 

The marriage of Isaac and Rebekah was more like the type 
of a Christian marriage than any other on record. No other 
wife shared a place in his heart and home; and, even to old 
age, Isaac knew no other than the bride of his youth. From 
this union sprang twin boys; between whom, as is often the 
case, there was a remarkable difference. The physical energy 
and fire all seemed to go to one, the gentler and more quiet 
traits to the other. Esau was the wild huntsman, the ranger 
of the mountains, delighting in force, — precisely adapted to 
become the chief of a predatory tribe. Jacob, the patient, the 
prudent, the submissive, was the home child, the darling of his 
mother. Now, with every constitutional excellency and virtue is 
inevitably connected, in our imperfect humanity, the liability to 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


a fault. The peace-loving and prudent, averse to strife, are liable 
to sins of artifice and deception, as stronger natures are to those 
of force and violence. Probably, in the calm eye of Him who 
sees things just as they are, the one kind of fault is no worse than 
the other. At all events, the sacred narrative is a daguerreo- 
type of character; it reflects every trait and every imperfection 
without comment. The mild and dreamy Isaac, to save his wife 
from a rapacious king, undertakes to practice the same artifice 
that his father used before him, saying, ‘She is my sister”; and 
the same evil consequence ensues. The lesson of artifice once 
taught in the family, the evil spreads. Rebekah, when Isaac is 
old and doting, commands Jacob to personate his older brother, 
and thus gain the patriarchal blessing, which in those days had 
the force of a last will and testament in our times. Yet, through 
all the faults and errors of the mere human actors runs the 
thread of a Divine guidance. Before the birth of Jacob it was 
predicted that he should be the chosen head of the forming nation; 
and by his mother’s artifice, and his own participation in it, that 
prediction is fulfilled. Yet the natural punishment of the action 
follows. Esau is alienated, and meditates murder in his heart; 
and Jacob, though the mother’s darling, is driven out from his 
home a hunted fugitive, parted from her for life. He starts on 
foot to find his way to Padan-Aram, to his father’s kindred, there ~ 
to seek and meet and woo the wife appointed for him. 

It is here that the history of the patriarch Jacob becomes im- 
mediately helpful to all men in all ages. And its usefulness con- 
sists in just this, — that Jacob, at this time in his life, was no saint 
or hero. He was not a person distinguished either by intellect or 
by high moral attainment, but simply such a raw, unformed lad as 
life is constantly casting adrift from the shelter of homes. He is 
no better and no worse than the multitude of boys, partly good 
and partly bad, who, for one reason or another, are forced to leave 
their mothers and their fathers; to take staff in hand and start 
out on the great life-journey alone. He had been religiously 
brought up; he knew that his father and his mother had a God, 
—the Invisible God of Abraham and Isaac; but then, other gods 
and lords many were worshiped in the tribes around him, and 


LHAH AND RACHEL. 


how did he know, after all, which was the right one? He wan- 
ders on over the wide, lonesome Syrian plains, till dark night 
comes on, and he finds himself all alone, an atom in the great 
silent creation, —alone, as many a sailor-boy has found himself on 
the deck of his ship, or hunter, in the deep recesses of the forest. 
The desolate lad gathers a heap of stones for a pillow and lies 
down to sleep. Nothing could be more sorrowfully helpless than 
this picture ; the representative portrait of many a mother’s boy 
to-day, and in all days. We cannot suppose that he prayed or 
commended his soul to God. We are told distinctly that he 
did not even remember that God was in that place. He les 
down, helpless and forlorn, on his cold stone pillow, and sinks, 
overcome with fatigue, to prayerless slumber. And now, in his 
dreams, a glorious light appears; a luminous path opens upward 
to the skies, —angels are passing to and fro upon it, and above, in 
bright benignity, stands a visible form, and says: ‘“‘I am the Lorp 
God of Abraham thy father, and the God of Isaac: the land 
whereon thou liest, to thee will I give it, and to thy seed; and 
thy seed shall be as the dust of the earth; and thou shalt spread 
abroad to the west, and to the east, and to the north, and to the 
south; and in thee and in thy seed shall all the families of the 
earth be blessed. And, behold, I am with thee, and will keep 
thee in all places whither thou goest, and will bring thee again 
unto this land; for I will not leave thee, until I have done that 
which I have spoken to thee of. And Jacob awaked out of his 
sleep, and he said, Surely the Lord is in this place; and I knew 
it not. And he was afraid, and said, How dreadful is this place ! 
This is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of 
heaven. And Jacob arose up early in the morning, and took the 
stone that he had put for his pillow, and set it up for a pillar, 
and poured oil upon the top of it. And Jacob vowed a vow, say- 
ing, If God will be with me, and will keep me in this way that I 
go, and will give me bread to eat, and raiment to put on, so that 
I come again to my father’s house in peace, then shall the Lorp 
be my God: and this stone, which I have set for a pillar, shall be 
God’s house: and of all that Thou shalt give me I will surely 
give the tenth unto thee.” 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


In one night how much is born in that soul! The sentiment 
of reverence, awe of the Divine, —a conviction of the reality of 
God and an invisible world, — and the beginning of that great 
experiment by which man learns practically that God is his 
father. For, in the outset, every human being’s consciousness 
of God must be just of this sort. Have I a Father in heaven? 
Does he care for me? Will he help me? Questions that each 
man can only answer as Jacob did, by casting himself upon God 
in a matter-of-fact, practical way in the exigencies of this present 
life. And this history is the more valuable because it takes 
man in his earlier stages of imperfection. We are apt to feel 
that it might be safe for Paul, or Isaiah, or other great saints, to 
expect God to befriend them; but here a poor, untaught shep- 
herd boy, who is not religious, avows that, up to this time, he 
has had no sense of God; and yet between him and heaven 
there is a pathway, and about him in his loneliness are minister- 
ing spirits; and the God of Abraham and of Isaac is ready to 
become his friend. In an important sense, this night dream, 
this gracious promise of God to Jacob, are not merely for him, 
but for all erring, helpless, suffermg sons of men. In the fa- 
therly God thus revealed to the patriarch, we see the first fruits 
of the promise that through him all nations should be blessed. 

The next step of the drama shows us a scene of sylvan sim- 
plicity. About the old well in Haran, shepherds are waiting — 
with their flocks, when the stripling approaches: ‘And Jacob 
said unto them, My brethren, whence be ye? And they said, Of 
Haran are we. And he said unto them, Know ye Laban the son 
of Nahor? And they said, We know him. And he said unto 
them, Is he well? And they said, He is well: and, behold, 
Rachel his daughter cometh with the sheep. And he said, Lo, 
it is yet high day, neither is it time that the cattle should be 
gathered together. Water ye the sheep, and go and feed them. 
And they said, We cannot, until all the flocks be gathered to- 
gether, and till they roll the stone from the well’s mouth; then 
we water the sheep. And while he yet spake with them Rachel 
came with her father’s sheep; for she kept them. And it came 
to pass, when Jacob saw Rachel, the daughter of Laban, his 


LEAH AND RACHEL. 


mother’s brother, and the sheep of Laban, his mother’s brother, 
that Jacob went near, and rolled the stone from the well’s mouth, 
and watered the flock of Laban, his mother’s brother. And . 
Jacob kissed Rachel, and lifted up his voice, and wept; and 
Jacob told Rachel that he was her father’s brother, and that 
he was Rebekah’s son: and she ran and told her father. And it 
came to pass, when Laban heard the tidings of Jacob, his sister’s 
son, that he ran to meet him, and embraced him, and kissed 
him, and brought him to his house.” | 

In the story of Isaac, we have the bridegroom who is simply 
the submissive recipient of a wife at his father’s hands; in that 
of Jacob, we have the story of love at first sight. The wanderer, 
exiled from home, gives up his heart at once to the keeping of 
his beautiful shepherdess cousin, and so, when the terms of 
service are fixed with the uncle, the narrative says: ‘ And 
Laban had two daughters; the name of the elder was Leah, and 
the name of the younger was Rachel. Leah was tender-eyed ; 
but Rachel was beautiful and well-favored. And Jacob loved 
Rachel, and said, I will serve thee seven years for Rachel, thy 
younger daughter. And Jacob served seven years for Rachel, 
and they seemed unto him but a few days, for the love he had 
to her.” 

But when the wedding comes, in the darkness and secrecy of 
the night a false bride is imposed on the lover. And Jacob 
awoke, and behold it was Leah. Not the last man was he who 
has awakened, after the bridal, to find his wife was not the 
woman he had taken her to be. But the beloved one is given 
as a second choice, and seven years more of service are imposed 
as her price. 

The characteristics of these two sisters, Leah and Rachel, are 
less vividly given than those of any of the patriarchal women. 
Sarah, Hagar, and Rebekah are all sharply defined characters, 
in and of themselves; but of Leah and Rachel almost all that can 
be said is that they were Jacob’s wives, and mothers of the 
twelve tribes of Israel. 

The character of their father Laban was narrow, shrewd, 
and hard, devoid of any generous or interesting trait, and the 


WOMAN IN SACKED HISTORY. 


daughters appear to have grown up under a narrowing and re- 
pressing influence. What we learn of them in the story shows 
the envies, the jealousies, the bickerings and heart-burnings of 
poorly developed natures. Leah, the less beloved one, exults over 
her handsomer and more favored sister because she has been 
made a fruitful mother, while to Rachel the gift of children is 
denied. Rachel murmurs and pines, and says to her husband, 
‘Give me children, or I die.” The desire for offspring in those 
days seemed to be an agony. ‘To be childless, was disgrace and 
misery unspeakable. At last, however, Rachel becomes a mother 
and gives birth to Joseph, the best-beloved of his father. The 
narrative somehow suggests that charm of personal beauty and 
manner which makes Rachel the beloved one, and her child 
dearer than all the rest. How many such women there are, 
pretty and charming, and holding men’s hearts like a fortress, of 
whom a biographer could say nothing only that they were much 
beloved! | 

When Jacob flees from Laban with his family, we find Rachel 
secretly taking away the images which her father had kept as 
household gods. The art by which she takes them, the effront- 
ery with which she denies the possession of them, when her father 
comes to search for them, shows that she had little moral eleva- 
tion. The belief in the God of her husband probably was mixed 
up confusedly in her childish mind with the gods of her father. 
Not unfrequently in those dim ages, people seemed to alternate 
from one to the other, as occasions varied. Yet she seems to have 
held her husband’s affections to the last; and when, in giving birth 
to her last son, she died, this son became the darling of his father’s 
old age. The sacred poet has made the name of this beloved 
wife a proverb, to express the strength of the motherly instinct, 
and ‘‘ Rachel weeping for her children” is a line that immortal- 
izes her name to all time. 

Whatever be the faults of these patriarchal women, it must be 
confessed that the ardent desire of motherhood which inspired 
them is far nobler than the selfish, unwomanly spirit of modern 
times, which regards children only as an encumbrance and a 
burden. The motherly yearning and motherly spirit give a 


LHAH AND RACHEL. 


certain dignity to these women of primitive ages, which atones 
for many faults of imperfect development. 

Twenty-one years elapse, and Jacob, a man of substance, father 
of a family of twelve children, with flocks and herds to form a 
numerous caravan, leaves the service of his hard master to go 
back to his father. The story shows the same traits in the man 
as in the lad. He is the gentle, affectionate, prudent, kindly, 
care-taking family-man, faithful in duty, and evading oppression 
by quiet skill rather than meeting it with active opposition. He 
has become rich, in spite of every effort of an aggressive master 
to prevent it. 

When leaving Laban’s service, he thus appeals to him: ‘These 
twenty years have I been with thee: thy ewes and thy she-goats 
have not cast their young, and the rams of thy flock have I not 
eaten. ‘That which was torn of beasts I brought not unto thee; 
I bare the loss of it. Thus was I: in the day the drought con- 
sumed me, and the frost by night, and my sleep departed from 
mine eyes. Thus have I been twenty years in thy house. I 
served thee fourteen years for thy two daughters, and six years 
for thy cattle; and thou hast changed my wages ten times. [Ex- 
cept the God of my father, the God of Abraham, and the fear of 
Isaac, had been with me, surely thou hadst sent me away now 
empty. God hath seen my affliction and the labor of my hands, 
and rebuked thee yesternight.” 

To the last of the history of Jacob, we see the same man, 
—careful, patient, faithful, somewhat despondent, wrapped up in 
family ties and cares, and needing at every step to lean on a 
superior power. And the Father on whom he seeks to lean is 
never wanting to him, as he will never be to any of us, however 
weak, or faulty, or blind. As the caravan nears home, news 
is brought that Esau, with an army of horsemen, is gallop- 
ing to meet him. Then says the record: ‘Jacob was greatly 
afraid and distressed: and Jacob said, O God of my father 
Abraham, the God of my father Isaac, the Lord which saidst 
unto me, Return unto thy country and to thy kindred, and 
I will deal well with thee: I am not worthy of the least of 
all the mercies and of all the truth which thou hast showed 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


unto thy servant: for with my staff I passed over this Jor- 
dan; and now I am become two bands. Deliver me, I pray 
thee, from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau; for 
I fear him, lest he will come and smite me, and the mother with 
the children. And thou saidst, I will surely do thee good, and 
make thy seed as the sand of the sea, which cannot be numbered 
for multitude.” The prayer is not in vain. That night a mys- 
terious stranger meets Jacob in the twilight shadows of morning. 
He seeks to detain him; but, as afterwards, when the disciples 
met an unknown Friend on the way to Emmaus, he made as 
though he would go farther. So now this stranger struggles in 
the embrace of the patriarch. Who, then, is this? —is it the 
Divine One? The thought thrills through the soul as Jacob 
strives to detain him. There is something wildly poetic in the 
legend. ‘And he said, Let me go, for the day breaketh. And 
he said, I will not let thee go, except thou bless me. And he said 
unto him, What is thy name? And he said, Jacob. And he 
said, Thy name shall be called no more Jacob, but Israel: for as 
a prince hast thou power with God and with men, and hast pre- 
vailed. And Jacob asked him: Tell me, I pray thee, thy name. 
And he said, Wherefore dost thou ask after my name? And he 
blessed him there. And Jacob called the name of the place 
Peniel, for he said, I have seen God face to face, and my life is 
preserved.” God’s love to man, the power of man’s weakness 
and sorrow over the Father-heart, were never more beautifully 
shown than in this sacred idyl. The God of Abraham, Isaac, 
and Jacob; the God of the weak, the sinful, the despondent, 
the defenceless; the helper of the helpless, —He is the God 
of this sacred story; and so long as man is erring, and con- 
sciously frail, so long as he needs an ever-present and ever- 
loving Friend and Helper, so long will this story of Jacob be 
dear to the human heart. 


WOMEN OF THE NATIONAL PERIOD. 


MIRIAM, SISTER OF MOSES. 


7 T has been remarked by Montalembert that almost all 
et the great leading men in history have been intimately 
associated with superior women. If we look on Moses 
in a merely human light, and judge him by what he 
accomplished, as we do other historic characters, he is in certain 
respects the greatest man of antiquity. The works of the legis- 
lators, kings, and conquerors of ancient history were perish- 
able. Their cities have crumbled, their governments and com- 
monwealths have dissolved as waves of the sea. Moses alone - 
founded a nation that still lives with an imperishable vitality, 
—a people whose religious literature still expresses the highest 
aspirations of the most cultivated nations of the earth. 

His advent, therefore, forms an era in the history of humanity, 
and the very opening of his career presents us with pictures 
of imposing and venerable female characters. The mother of 
Moses is mentioned, in the epistle to the Hebrews, as one of 
those worthies of ancient time, who triumphed over things seen 
by the power of a sublime faith in the invisible God and his 
promises. ‘The very name of the mother (Exodus vi. 20), Joche- 
bed, —‘“‘the glory of Jehovah,” — shows that a deep spirit of 
religious enthusiasm and trust was the prevailing impulse in the 
family. She was of that moral organization whence, through 
the laws of descent, might spring the prophet and prophetess. 
By faith she refused to obey the cruel order of the king, and 
for three months hid the beautiful child. 

And here comes in the image of the first, and one of the most 
revered, of the race of Hebrew prophetesses, Miriam, the elder 
sister of Moses. According to the Rabbinic tradition, the gift 
of prophecy descended upon her even in childhood. ‘The story 
is that Miriam’s mother, Jochebed, was one of the midwives to 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


whom Pharaoh gave the command to destroy the children, and 
that when the child Miriam heard it, being then only five years 
old, her face flushed scarlet, and she said in anger: ‘‘ Woe to this 
man! God will punish him for his evil deeds.” After this the 
tradition says that when the decree went forth for the destruction 
of every male child, Amram separated himself from his wife 
Jochebed, lest he should bring on her the anguish of fruitless 
motherhood. After three years, the spirit of prophecy came on 
Miriam as she sat in the house, and she cried out suddenly: 
‘My parents shall have another son, who shall deliver Israel out 
of the hands of the Egyptians.” The angel Gabriel guided Am- 
ram back to find his wife, whom he found blooming in all the 
beauty of youth, though more than a hundred years old. When 
she found herself with child, she feared that it might prove a 
boy, to be cruelly slain. Then the Eternal One spake in a 
dream to the father, bidding him be of good cheer, for he would 
protect the child, and all nations should hold him in honor. 

The tradition goes on to say that the boy was born without 
pain, and that when he was born the whole house was filled with 
a light as of bright sunshine. The mother’s anxiety was in- 
creased when she saw the beauty of the child, who was lovely 
as an angel of God. The parents called him Tobias, ‘God is 
good,” to express their thankfulness, and Amram kissed Miriam 
on the brow and said: “‘ Now know I that thy prophecy is come 
true.” 

In contrast to this ornate narrative is the grave and chaste sim- 
plicity of the Scripture story. It is all comprised in two or three 
verses of the second chapter of Exodus. “And there went a man 
of the house of Levi, and took to wife a daughter of Levi. And 
the woman conceived, and bare a son: and when she saw him 
that he was a goodly child she hid him three months. And when 
she could no longer hide him, she took for him an ark of bul- 
rushes, and daubed it with slime and with pitch, and put the 
child therein and laid it in the flags by the river’s brink. And 
his sister stood afar off to see what would be done to him. And 
the daughter of Pharaoh came down to wash herself at the river ; 
and her maidens walked along the river’s side: and when she 


MIRIAM, SISTER OF MOSES. 


saw the ark among the flags, she sent her maid to fetch it. And 
when she had opened it, she saw the child: and behold, the babe 
wept. And she had compassion on him and said: This is one of 
the Hebrew children. Then said his sister to Pharaoh’s daughter, 
Shall I go and call to thee a nurse of the Hebrew women, that 
she may nurse the child for thee? And Pharaoh’s daughter said 
unto her, Go. And the maid went and called the child’s mother. 
And Pharaoh’s daughter said, Take this child away, and nurse it 
for me, and I will give thee thy wages; and the woman took the 
child and nursed it. And the child grew, and she brought him 
unto Pharaoh’s daughter, and she called his name Moses: and 
she said, Because I drew him out of the water.” 

To this, we may add the account which St. Stephen gives when 
standing before the Jewish council. ‘In which time Moses was 
born, who was exceeding fair,* and nourished up in his father’s 
house three months. And when he was cast out, Pharaoh’s 
daughter took him up and nourished him for her own son. And 
Moses was learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians, and was 
mighty in words and deeds.” 

Such are the extremely brief notices of a great event and of a 
group of characters whose influence on mankind every one of us 
feels to-day. For, the Jewish nation, in being chosen of God to 
be a sacerdotal race, was to pass through a history which should 
embody struggles, oppressions, agonies, victories, and deliver- 
ances, such as should represent to all time the sorrows and joys, 
the trials and hopes, of humanity. To this day, the events of 
- Jewish history so well express universal experiences, that its lit- 
erature in all languages, and under all difference of climate and 
_ custom, has an imperishable hold on the human heart. It has 
been well said that nations struggling for liberty against power- 
ful oppressors flee as instinctively to the Old Testament as they 
do to mountain ranges. The American slave universally called 
his bondage Egypt, and read the history of the ten plagues 
and the crossing of the Red Sea as parts of his own experience. 
In the dark days of slavery, the history of Moses was sung at 


* The marginal translation reads “fair to God.” 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


night, and by stealth, on plantations, with solemn rhythmic move- 
ments, reminding one of old Egyptian times. It was the Mar- 
seillaise of a mie people, forbidden by the master, and all the 
dearer to the slave. 

We must take the full force of the anguish, the ignominy, 
the oppression of slavery acting on noble and sensitive natures, 
elevated by faith in a high national destiny, and looking with 
earnestness and prayer for its evolution, in order to get a full 
idea of the character of Miriam. Such periods produce children 
with that highly exalted organization which is predisposed to re- 
ceive the prophetic impulse. The Rabbinic traditions with regard 
to Miriam, which we have added, are detailed at length by Jose- 
phus in his history, and show how strong is the impression which 
the personality of this woman made on those of her time, in con- 
nection with the life of their great lawgiver. 

The Bible account of the birth and preservation of Moses has 
the usual quality of Scripture narratives; it is very brief and 
very stimulating to the imagination. Who of us has not seen 

in childhood the old Nile with its reeds and rushes, its back- 
- ground of temples and pyramids? We have shared the tremors 
of the mother and sister while the little one was launched in the 
frail ark. Probably some report of the kindness of the Princess 
had inspired a trembling hope. ‘The mother dares not stay to 
guard her treasure, lest she draw cruel eyes upon it; but the little 
Miriam, as a child playing among the tall reeds, can remain on 
the watch without attracting attention. In the scene where the 
helpless stranger is discovered by the Princess, we have, in the 
movements of the sister, all the characteristics, in miniature, of 
the future leader of Israel. Prompt, fearless, with an instanta- 
neous instinct as to the right thing to be done at the critical 
moment, we can see the little Hebrew maid press forward amid 
the throng surrounding the alarmed and crying child. The 
tradition is that an Egyptian woman, at the command of the 
Princess, tried to quiet him at her breast, and that the young 
prophet indignantly rejected the attempt,—a statement which 
we who know babies, whether prophetic or otherwise, may deem 
highly probable. Then spoke up the little Miriam: “Shall I go 


MIRIAM, SISTER OF MOSES. 


and call thee a nurse of the Hebrew women, that she may nurse 
the child for thee? This was a bold proposal, but it succeeded. 
Perhaps the small speaker had some of the wonderful beauty of 
her infant brother to set off her words: at all events, the Princess 
seems at once to have trusted her with the commission. We may 
readily believe the little feet had not far to go. The child comes 
back to his mother’s bosom as a royal ward. 

We see here in the child Miriam great self-poise and self-confi- 
dence. She is not afraid of royalty, and, though of an enslaved 
and despised race, is ready to make suggestions to a queen. 
These are the traits of a natural leader, and we shall see them 
reappearing later in the history of Miriam. It was customary 
among the Oriental races to prolong the period of nursing two 
or three years, and Moses was thus in the care of his mother 
and elder sister for a long time. 

Josephus gives the tradition current among the Jews, that the 
child was a wonderfully attractive one, — so beautiful, that every 
one who beheld him turned to look at him. The mother and 
sister looked upon him as the visible pledge of God’s mercy to 
their suffering people, as well as the visible answer to prayer. 
The God of Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in whose hand are 
all hearts, had made a refuge for the young Deliverer in the 
very family of the destroying tyrant ! 

The intercourse thus established between the court of Pharaoh 
and these two women must have materially advanced their posi- 
tion. We see in the Princess indications of a gracious and affable 
nature, and in Miriam a quick readiness to turn every favorable 
indication to good account. It is, therefore, quite probable that 
Miriam may have shared the liberal patronage of the Princess. 
Evidently she continued to influence the mind of her brother 
after he had gone into the family of Pharaoh, since we see her 
publicly associated with him at the great period of the national 
deliverance. 

In the history of Moses,and in his laws and institutes, we see 
a peculiar and almost feminine tenderness and consideration for 
whatever is helpless and defenceless. Perhaps the history of his 
own life, —the story of the forlorn helplessness of his own cradle, 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


and the anguish of his mother and sister, — operating on a large 
and generous nature, produced this result. For example, among 
the laws of the great lawgiver, we find one which forbids the 
caging of a.free bird (Deut. xxii. 6, 7); thus it was allowed to 
take the young who might easily be reconciled to captivity, but 
forbidden to take those accustomed to freedom. Whoever has 
seen the miserable struggles of a free bird brought suddenly 
into captivity, can appreciate the compassionateness of the man 
who made such a law for a great people. In the same spirit 
another law forbids the muzzling of the ox when he treads the 
grain, and commands every man to stop and help an overbur- 
dened ass that falls beneath his load; and it particularly adds, 
that the ass of an enemy shall be helped, no matter how great 
the unwillingness. 

In fact, the strongest impulse in the character of Moses appears 
to have been that of protective justice, with regard to every help- 
less and down-trodden class. The laws of Moses, if carefully 
examined, are a phenomenon, — an exception to the laws of either 
ancient or modern nations in the care they exercised over women, 
widows, orphans, paupers, foreigners, servants, and dumb animals. 
Of all the so-called Christian nations there is, none but could ad- 
vantageously take a lesson in legislation from them. There is a 
plaintive, pathetic tone of compassion in their very language, which 
seems to have been learned only of superhuman tenderness. Not — 
the gentlest words of Jesus are more compassionate in their spirit 
than many of these laws of Moses. Some of them sound more like 
the pleadings of a mother than the voice of legal statutes. For 
example: “If thou lend money to any that is poor by thee, thou 
shalt not lay upon him usury. If thou at all take thy neighbor's 
garment to pledge, thou shalt deliver it unto him by that the sun 
goeth down, for that is his covering, it is his raiment for his 
skin; wherein shall he sleep? and it shall come to pass that 
when he crieth unto me I will hear, for I am gracious.” ‘Thou 
shalt not oppress a hired servant that is poor and needy, whether 
he be of thine own brethren or of strangers that are within thy 

gates. At his day shalt thou give him his wages, neither shall 
the sun go down upon it, for he is poor and setteth his heart upon 


MIRIAM, SISTHR OF MOSES. 


it, lest he ery unto the Lord against thee.” ‘Thou shalt not per- 
vert the judgment of the stranger nor of the fatherless, nor take 
the widow’s raiment as pledge; thou shalt remember that thou 
wast a bondman in Heypt, and the Lord thy God redeemed thee, 
therefore I command thee to do this thing.” ‘‘ When thou cuttest 
down thy harvest and hast forgot a sheaf in the field, thou shalt 
not go again to fetch it, it shall be for the stranger, the fatherless, 
and the widow. When thou beatest thine olive-tree, thou shalt 
not go over it again; when thou gatherest the grapes of thy vine- 
yard, thou shalt not glean it afterward, it shall be for the stranger, 
the fatherless, and the widow.” 

In all this, we see how deep was the impression made on the 
mind of Moses by the enslaved and helpless condition of his peo- 
ple. He had felt for the struggles of the enslaved, and it made 
him tender to the wild bird of the desert beating against its cage, 
to the overloaded ass fainting under his burden, to the hungry ox 
toiling to procure food which he was restricted from enjoying. 

Of the period including the time that Moses left his mother and 
sister to dwell in the palace of the Pharaohs, and receive the edu- 
cation of an Egyptian prince, we have no record in the sacred 
narrative, except the declaration of Stephen in the book of Acts, 
that he was learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians, and 
mighty in word and deed. 

In Smith’s Dictionary of the Bible there is a brief résumé of what 
is said by ancient authors of this period of his life. According to 
Strabo, he was educated at Heliopolis, and grew up there as a 
priest, under his Egyptian name of Osariph. According to Philo, 
he was taught the whole range of Greek, Chaldee, and Assyrian 
literature. From the Egyptians, especially, he learned mathe- 
matics, to train his mind for the unprejudiced reception of truth. 
He invented boats, engines for building, instruments of war and 
of hydraulics, and also understood hieroglyphics and mensuration 
of land. He taught Orpheus, and is thence called by the Greeks 
Muszeus, and by the Egyptians Hermes. According to Josephus, 
he was sent as general of the Egyptian army on an expedition 
against Ethiopia. He got rid of the serpents, in the countries 
through which he was to march, by turning basketfuls of ibises 


9 : 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


upon them. Tharbis, the daughter of the King of Ethiopia, fell 
in love with him, and induced her father to surrender to him; 
and he returned in triumph with her to Egypt as his wife, and 
founded the city of Hermopolis to celebrate his victory. We see 
here, that if Moses remained true to the teachings of his mother 
and sister, and the simple faith of Israel, it was not for want of 
the broadest culture the world afforded. Egypt was the cradle 
of arts and letters, and the learned men of Greece traveled there 
to study the mysteries which were concealed under her hiero- 
elyphics. Moses was a priest of Egypt in virtue of being a 
prince of a royal house. According to the Egyptian tradition, 
although a priest of Heliopolis, he always performed his devo- 
tions outside the walls of the city, in the open air, turned towards 
the sunrising. According to the language of St. Paul, “he en- 
dured as seeing Him that is invisible.” 

In Wilkinson’s “ Egypt,” we have some interesting sugges- 
tions as to the life and training of the Egyptian priest, which 
go far to show what manner of education must have been given 
to Moses. The utmost purity of person was enjoined. Daily 
and nightly bathing of the whole person, a dress of pure linen, 
ereat exactness as to food, with strict dietetic regulations, were 
also a part of the trainnmg. The Egyptians were the fountains 
of physiological and medical knowledge to the nations of antiq- 
uity, and undoubtedly these studies were a part of the “wisdom” 
of the priests. Moses must also have passed through the lesser 
and the greater initiation into the mysteries of Egypt; im which 
were taught the unity of God, the immortality of the soul, and 
the retributions of a future life. Thus he had an opportunity of 
comparing that portion of the Divine teaching and traditions which 
had descended through Egypt, with the pure stream which had 
flowed down through the patriarchal families. ~ 

It thus appears that the Divine Being, in choosing the teacher 
and lawgiver to form his chosen nation, did not disdain the 
existing wisdom of the world up to that time. Moses had before 
him the results of all the world’s experience in thought and 
culture. Egypt was the best there was to know, and he knew 
Egypt thoroughly. While, however, he often took suggestions 


MIRIAM, SISTHR OF MOSES. 


from the ritual and philosophy of the Egyptians, the general 
bent of his institutes in reference to them was jealous and an- 
tagonistic. 

At the end of such a training and such varied experience, — 
as priest, as general, as conqueror, — Moses returns to Egypt 
and meets again his sister, in whose heart the prophetic fire is 
still burning; and the sight of the oppression and misery of 
his people leads him to seek to interpose for their deliverance. 
The first act is the simple, unadvised movement of indignation 
at injustice; he sees a Hebrew slave writhing under the lash 
of an Egyptian; he kills the tyrant and delivers the slave. 
He next tries to rouse a national spirit of union among his 
people, and separates two who are fighting, with the words, 
‘Ye are brethren, and should not contend.” St. Stephen fur- 
ther interprets the heart of Moses at this crisis: “‘ For he sup- 
posed that his brethren would have understood how that God 
by his hand would deliver them: but they understood not. But 
he that did his neighbor wrong thrust him away, saying, Who 
made thee a ruler and a judge over us? Wilt thou kill me as 
thou didst the Egyptian yesterday?” (Acts vii. 25, 27, 28.) 
According to Josephus, there were at this time envious and 
jealous plots hatching against Moses in the court of Pharaoh, 
and his life was threatened. 

He fled to the land of Midian, where, with characteristic 
chivalry, his first act was to interfere for the protection of 
some women who were prevented by the brutality of the 
shepherd herdsmen from watering their flocks. 

Still we see in him the protector of the weak and defenseless. 
In this case his interference procures for him the gratitude of the 
priest of the shepherd tribe, and the exiled Egyptian prince be- 
comes a shepherd in the wilderness of Midian. He marries and 
settles down, apparently content with the life of a simple herds- 
man. ‘This seems to have been one of those refluent tides to 
which natures of great sensibility are liable, after a short ex- 
perience of the realities of life. At once ardent and tender, 
Moses had been ready to cast in his fortunes with his oppressed 
and suffering people; but he found them unwilling to listen to 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


him, and unworthy of freedom. His heart sinks, —the grandeur 
of courts, military renown, the wisdom of Egypt, are all less in 
his eyes than even the reproach of a good cause; but he feels 
himself powerless and alone, rejected by the very people whom 
he came to serve. Like the Greater Prophet of whom he was 
the type, ‘“‘He came unto his own, and his own received him 
not.” 

In sinking of heart and despair, the solitude of the wilder- 
ness, its loneliness and stern simplicity, are a refuge and rest 
to him. In the great calm of nature he draws near to Him 
who is invisible. What is most peculiar in the character of 
Moses, with all his advantages of beauty, rank, station, educa- 
tion, and military success, is a singular absence of self-esteem and 
self-reliance. When the God of his fathers appears in flaming 
fire and commissions him to go and lead forth his oppressed 
people, Moses shrinks from the position, and prays that it may 
_be given to another. He is not eloquent; he says, he is of stam- 
mering speech and a slow tongue, and he prays the Lord to 
choose another. How often it happens that the work of the 
world is thus put upon men who shrink from it, — not from 
indolence, but from an exalted ideality, a high conception of 
the work to be done! Moses was dumb and stammering with 
low-minded, vulgar-natured men, as men who live high up in 
the radiant air of the nobler feelings often are. How bring his © 
ereat thoughts and purer feelings down to their conceptions? 
He must have a spokesman, and evidently regards his brother 
Aaron as better fitted to take the lead than himself. 

Aaron seems to be a 
sympathetic, easily moved, and with a ready gift of words — 
whom greater natures often admire for a facility and fluency 
which their very greatness denies to them. And yet it is this 
Aaron who, when Moses had been more than a month absent on 
the mount, was carried away by the demand of the people to 
make them a visible god; and who, if his brother had not cast 
himself down in agony of intercession, would have been swept 
away by the Divine anger. 

In the great scene of the national deliverance, after the passage 


MIRIAM, SISTER OF MOSES. 


of the Red Sea, behold Moses and Miriam once more reunited in 
a grand act of national triumph! <A solemn procession goes forth 
on the shores of the sea, and Moses leads the psalm of thanksgiv- 
ing. ‘And Miriam the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a 
timbrel in her hand; and all the women went out after her with 
timbrels and with dances. And Miriam answered them, saying, 
Sing ye to the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously ; the horse 
and his rider hath he thrown into the sea.” The solemn union of 
man and woman in this great public act of worship and thanks- 
giving, which inaugurated a free nation, is indicative of the 
equality given to women by the Divine Being in all that per- 
tains to the spiritual and immortal. ‘On your sons and your 
daughters,” says the prophet Joel, “I will pour out of my spirit, 
and they shall prophesy”; and the same passage is quoted by 
St. Peter as expressive of the genius of the opening Christian 
dispensation. ‘Thus we find at the opening of the Mosaic, as 
well as the Christian dispensation, this announcement of the 
equality of the sexes in their spiritual nature. 

Many circumstances make it probable that as Moses and 
Miriam unitedly led the devotions of the people on this most 
solemn of national festivals, so they continued to be united in 
administrative station during that important period when the 
national code of laws and religious ritual were being crystal- 
lized and consolidated. We infer from a passage in the prophet 
Micah,* that it was not in mere brotherly fondness that Moses 
would have consulted this sister, who had been to him as a 
mother, but that she was understood to be one of the divinely 
appointed leaders of the people, and that he was thus justified 
in leaning upon her for counsel. 

Moses was distinguished above all men we read of in his- 
tory by a singular absence of egoism. He was like a mother 
in the midst of the great people whose sins, infirmities, and sor- 
rows he bore upon his heart with scarcely a consciousness of 


* Micah, who prophesied in the reign of Hezekiah, represents the Divine Being as thus 
addressing his people : “I brought thee up out of the land of Egypt; I sent before thee 
Moses and Aaron and Miriam” (Micah vi. 4). This is an indorsement more direct than 
any other prophetess ever received. 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


self. He had no personal interests. He was a man so lowly 
and gentle of demeanor that all his associates felt freé to ad- 
vise him. Thus his father-in-law, Jethro, visiting him in the 
wilderness, expresses himself with perfect freedom in regard to 
the excessive toil he is undergoing in the care of the people, 
and suggests the appointment of elders who should share the 
work of management. The eighteenth chapter of Exodus is a 
beautiful picture of the character and demeanor of Moses to- 
wards his father-in-law, and of his meek readiness to take 
advice. It appears that in all the long, laborious journey 
through the wilderness, Moses felt the burden and the respon- 
sibility altogether more than the honor, and there is a despair- 
ing freedom in the complaints he sometimes pours out to his 
God. Thus in one of the periods of national discontent, when 
the people were all ‘ weeping and murmuring every man in 
his tent door,” Moses says, ‘‘ Wherefore hast thou afflicted thy 
servant? and why have I not found favor in thine eyes, that 
thou layest the burden of all this people upon me? Have I 
conceived all this people, —have I begotten them, that thou 
shouldst say, Carry them in thy bosom as a nursing father 
beareth the sucking child, unto the land which thou swarest 
unto their fathers? I am not able to bear all this people alone, 
because it is too heavy for me. And if thou deal thus with 
me, kill me, I pray thee, out of hand, if I have found favor in 
thy sight; and let me not see my wretchedness.” ‘The answer 
to this prayer is the appointment of seventy elders, under the 
care of God, to be sharers in the responsibilities of Moses. 
This division of responsibility seems to have relieved Moses, 
and he had not a thought of divided honor, though it at once 
occurred to others with regard to him. When the gift of 
prophecy descended upon some of these seventy elders, it 
seems to have been imagined by some that this honor would 
take from the dignity of Moses; and we are told (Num. xi. 
28, 29), ‘Joshua, the son of Nun, the servant of Moses, one 
of his young men, answered and said, My lord Moses, forbid 
them. And Moses said unto him, Enviest thou for my sake? 
Would God that all the Lord’s people were prophets!” If now 


MIRIAM, SISTER OF MOSES. 


we consider this smgular meekness and unselfishness of Moses, 
we may easily see how it might be a temptation to an ambi- 
tious, self-asserting spirit to cross beyond the proper limit of 
advice and counsel into that of tyrannical dictation. 

We have seen, in the few scenes where Miriam has appeared, 
that she had a peculiar, prompt self-assertion and ready posi- 
tiveness which made leadership a necessity and a pleasure to 
her. She was a woman to court rather than shrink from re- 
sponsibility, and to feel to the full all the personal dignity 
and glory which her rank and position gave her; and, accord- 
ingly, the sacred narrative, which conceals no fault, informs us 
how gradually these unwatched traits grew up into the very 
worst form of selfish ambition. After all the trials and _ sor- 
rows of Moses, all the cabals and murmurings that wearied his 
soul and made him feel that life was a burden to him, we 
come at last to the severest trial of his life, when the sister 
and brother on whom he had leaned joined against him. The 
whole incident, recorded in Numbers xii., is most painful and 
most singular. ‘ And Miriam and Aaron spake against Moses 
on account of an Ethiopian woman whom he had married.” 
This is after the visit of his Midianite father-in-law, Jethro, 
who brought back to Moses his wife and two sons, from whom 
he had been long separated. It is supposed by some that this 
“woman of Cush” is the person referred to. If Moses had to 
this time been without a wife, he had been entirely devoted 
to his sister. Now another female influence comes in, — the 
wife of Moses may have felt disposed to assert her position 
among the women of Israel, and thus a broil may have arisen. 
One can easily imagine subjects of contention, and great vi- 
vacity of dissent, and the authority of Moses would naturally 
be referred to as the supreme one. 

Miriam and Aaron join together to repudiate that authority, 
and set themselves up as equals. ‘And they said, Hath the 
Lord indeed spoken only by Moses? Hath he not spoken also 
by us? And the Lord heard it. And the Lord spake sud- 
denly to Moses and Aaron and Miriam, Come out ye three 
unto the tabernacle of the congregation. And they three came 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


out. And the Lord came down in the pillar of cloud, and stood 
in the door of the tabernacle, and called forth Moses and Aaron 
and Miriam, and he said: Hear now my words. If there be a 
prophet among you, I the Lord will make myself known unto 
him in a vision, and will speak unto him in a dream. My ser- 
vant Moses is not so, who is faithful in all my house. With 
him I will speak mouth to mouth, even apparently, and not in 
dark speeches, and the similitude of the Lord shall he behold. 
Wherefore, then, were ye not afraid to speak against my servant 
Moses? And the anger of the Lord was kindled, and the Lord 
departed from them, and the cloud departed from the tabernacle ; 
and behold Miriam became leprous, white as snow; and Aaron 
looked upon Miriam, and behold she was leprous. And Aaron 
said to Moses, Alas, my lord, lay not this sin upon us, wherein we 
have done foolishly and wherein we have sinned. Let her not 
be as one dead, of whom the flesh is half consumed when he 
cometh out of his mother’s womb. And Moses cried unto the 
Lord, saying, Heal her now, O Lord, I beseech thee.” The an- 
swer given to Moses draws a strong simile from the customs of 
those desert tribes where the father holds almost the sacred place 
of a god in the family. If her own father had expressed towards 
her the utmost extreme of mingled indignation and loathing at her 
conduct, would she not be ashamed for a while? And the com- 
mand is given that she be shut out from the camp for seven days. 

It is evidence of the high position held by this woman, that 
the whole camp of Israel waited during those seven days, while 
she was suffering under this terrible rebuke. The severity of 
the rebuke and punishment which fell upon Miriam seems at 
first sight excessive. But we shall notice, in the whole line of 
the traditions with respect to the prophetic office, the most com- 
plete unselfishness is absolutely required. ‘To use the prophetic 
gift in any manner for personal ambition or aggrandizement, was 
sacrilege. The prophet must be totally, absolutely without self 
His divine gifts must never be used for any personal and indi- 
vidual purpose, even for the relief of utmost want. ‘Thus the 
great prophets, Elijah and Elisha, gifted with miraculous power, 
wandered hungry in the desert, and waited to be fed by God. 


MIRIAM, SISTER OF MOSES. 


Thus Jesus, the Head of all the Prophets, when after wandering 
forty days he was an hungered, refused the suggestion to feed 
himself by his own miraculous power, and also the suggestion to 
glorify himself by a public display of that power. 

Miriam, as we have seen, had naturally a great many of those 
personal traits which easily degenerate into selfish ambition. 
She was self-confident, energetic, and self-asserting by nature, 
and she had been associating with a brother whose peculiar un- 
selfishness and disposition to prefer others in honor before him- 
self had given full scope to her love of dictation. Undoubtedly, 
in most things her influence and her advice had been good, 
and there had been, in her leadership among the women of 
Israel, much that was valuable and admirable. But one of the 
most fearful possibilities in our human experience is.the silent 
manner in which the divine essence exhales from our virtues 
and they become first faults and afterward sins. Sacred enthusi- 
asms, solemn and awful trusts for noble purposes, may, before we 
know it, degenerate into mere sordid implements of personal 
ambition. In the solemn drama that has been represented in 
Scripture, the punishment that falls on the prophetess symbol- 
izes this corruption. God departs from the selfish and _ self- 
seeking soul, and, with God, all spiritual life. The living, life- 
giving, inspired prophetess becomes a corrupt and corrupting 
leper. Such was the awful lesson spoken in this symbol of lep- 
rosy; and, while the gifted leader of Israel waited without the 
camp, the nation pondered it in silence. 

One cannot but wonder at the apparent disproportion of the 
punishment upon Aaron. Yet, by careful observation, we shall 
find it to be a general fact in the Divine dealings, that the sins of 
weakness are less severely visited than the sins of strength. 
Aaron’s was evidently one of those weak and yielding natures 
that are taken possession of by stronger ones, as absolutely as a 
child is by a grown man. His was one of those sympathetic 
organizations which cannot resist the force of stronger wills. 
All his sins are the sins of this kind of temperament. To suffer 
bitterly, and to repent deeply, is also essential to this nature; 
and in the punishment which fell on the sister who had tempted 

10 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


him, Aaron was more punished than in anything that could 
have befallen himself. There is utter anguish and misery in the 
ery which he utters when he sees his sister thus stricken. 

There seems to have been a deep purpose in thus appointing 
to the priestly office a man peculiarly liable to the sins and 
errors of an excess of sympathy. The apostle says, that the 
proper idea of a priest was one ‘who could have compassion on 
the ignorant, and on them that are out of the way, for that he 
also is compassed with infirmity.” Among men such humility is 
only acquired by bitter failures. At the same time a nature so 
soft and yielding could not be smitten like a stronger one with- 
out being utterly destroyed. Aaron appears to have been so 
really crushed and humbled by the blow which struck his sister 
that he suffered all of which he was capable. The whole office 
of the priest was one of confession and humiliation. In every 
symbol and every ceremony he expressed a sense of utmost un- 
worthiness and need of a great expiation. It seems, therefore, in 
sympathy with the great and merciful design of such an office, 
that for its first incumbent should be chosen a man representing 
the infirmity rather than the strength of humanity. Our own 
experience in human nature is, that those who err from too sym- 
pathetic an organization, and a weak facility in receiving impres- 
sions from others, may yet have great hold on the affections of 
men, and be the most merciful counsellors of the sinful and 
tempted. 

The great Leader of Israel, who proclaimed his name through 
Moses as forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin, evidently fully 
forgave and restored both Miriam and Aaron, since he remained 
in the priestly office, and she is subsequently mentioned in 
Holy Writ as an ordained prophetess. 

After this scene in the desert we lose sight of Miriam entirely, 
and are only reminded of her in one significant passage, where it 
is said to Israel, ‘“‘Remember what the Lord thy God did to 
Miriam by the way, after ye were come forth from Egypt 
(Deut. xxiv. 9). Her death is recorded, Numbers xx. 1. 
Josephus gives an account of her funeral obsequies, which were 
celebrated in the most solemn manner for thirty days; the 


MIRIAM, SISTER OF MOSES. 


same honor was shown to a woman endowed with the pro- 
phetic commission that was given to her brothers; and not only 
so, but, as late as the time of St. Jerome, the tomb of Miriam 
was shown as an object of veneration. 

One thing in respect to the sacred and prophetic women of 
the Jewish race is peculiar. They were uniformly, so far 
as appears, married women and mothers of families, and not 
like the vestal virgins of antiquity, set apart from the usual 
family duties of women. Josephus mentions familiarly the 
husband of Miriam as being Hur, the well-known companion 
and assistant of Moses on a certain public occasion. He also 
refers to Bezaleel, one of the architects who assisted in the erec- 
tion of the tabernacle, as her grandson. We shall find, by 
subsequent examination of the lives of prophetic women who 
were called to be leaders in Israel, that they came from the 
bosom of the family, and were literally, as well as metaphori- 
cally, mothers in Israel. In the same year that Miriam died, 
Aaron, her brother, was also laid to rest, and, of the three, Moses 
rernained alone. 

It is remarkable that while Jewish tradition regarded Miriam 
with such veneration, while we see her spoken of in Holy Writ as 
a divinely appointed leader, yet there are none of her writings 
transmitted to us, as in the case of other and less revered proph- 
etesses. ‘The record of her fault and its punishment is given 
with the frankness with which the Bible narrates the failings 
of the very best; and, after that, nothing further is said. But 
it is evident that that one fault neither shook her brother’s love 
nor the regard of the nation for her. Josephus expressly men- 
tions that the solemn funeral honors which were shown her, 
and which held the nation as mourners for thirty days, were 
ordered and conducted by Moses, who thus expressed his love 
and veneration for the sister who watched his infancy and 
shared his labors. The national reverence for Miriam is shown 
in the Rabbinic tradition, that, on account of her courage and 
devotion in saving her brother’s life at the Nile, a spring of 
living water, of which the people drank, always followed her 
footsteps through her wanderings in the wilderness. On her 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


death the spring became dry. No more touching proof of a 
nation’s affectionate memory can be given than a legend like 
this. Is it not in a measure true of every noble, motherly 
woman ? , 

Yet, like many of her sex who have watched the cradle of 
great men, and been their guardians in infancy and their confi- 
dential counsellors in maturity, Miriam is known by Moses more 
than by herself. 

As sunshine reappears in the forms of the plants and flowers 
it has stimulated into existence, so much of the power of noble 
women appears, not in themselves, but in the men who are 
gradually molded and modified by them. It was a worthy 
mission of a prophetess to form a lawgiver. We cannot but 
feel that from the motherly heart of this sister, associated with 
him in the prophetic office, Moses must have gained much of 
that peculiar knowledge of the needs and wants and feelings of 
women which in so many instances shaped his administration. 

The law which protected the children of an unbeloved wife 
from a husband’s partiality, the law which sectred so much 
delicacy and consideration to a captive woman, the law which 
secured the marriage-rights of the purchased slave and forbade 
making merchandise of her, the law which gave to the newly 
married wife the whole of the first year of her husband’s time 
and attention, are specimens of what we mean when we say that 
the influence of a noble-hearted woman passed into the laws of - 
Moses. No man could be more chivalric or more ready to pro- 
tect, but it required a woman’s heart to show where protection 
was most needed, and we see in all these minute guardings of 
family life why the Divine Being speaks of a woman as being 
divinely associated with the great lawgiver: ‘I sent before you 
Moses and Aaron and Miriam.” 

Thus a noble womanly influence passed through Moses into 
permanent institutions. The nation identified her with the man 
who was their glory, and Miriam became immortal in Moses. 


® 
= 


. 
awe 


= a 
"a 


es 


i 


DEBORAH THE PROPHETESS. 


Ae HE Book of Judges is the record of a period which 
@ade, may be called ate Dark Ages of the Jewish Church, 
even as the medieval days were called the Dark 
* Aces of Christianity. In both cases, a new system 
of purity vat righteousness, wholly in advance of anything 
the world had ever before known, had been inaugurated by the 
visible power of God, —the system of Moses, and the system of 
Christ. But these pure systems seem, in each case, to have been 
allowed to struggle their own way through the mass of human 
ignorance and sin. The ideal policy of Moses was that of an 
ultra-democratic community, so arranged that perforce there 
must be liberty, fraternity, and equality. There was no chance 
for overgrown riches or abject poverty. Landed property was 
equally divided in the outset, and a homestead allowed to each 
family. Real estate could not be alienated from a family for 
more than a generation; after that period, it returned again to its 
original possessor. The supreme law of the land was love. 
Love, first, to the God and Father, the invisible head of all; and 
secondly, towards the neighbor, whether a Jewish brother or a 
foreigner and stranger. The poor, the weak, the enslaved, the 
old, the deaf, the blind, were protected by solemn and specific 
enactments. The person of woman was hedged about by re- 
straints and ordinances which raised her above the degradation 
of sensuality to the honored position of wife and mother. 
Motherhood was exalted into special honor, and named as 
equal with fatherhood in the eye of God. “Ye shall fear 
every man his mother and his father, and keep my Sabbaths: 
I am the Lord.” (Lev. xix. 3.) 

Refinement of feeling, personal cleanliness, self-restraint, order, 
and purity were taught by a system of ordinances and obsery- 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


ances, which were intertwined through all the affairs of life, so 
that the Jew who lived up to his law must of necessity rise to a 
noble manhood. But this system, so ideally perfect, encountered 
an age of darkness. Like all beautiful ideals, the theocratic re- 
public of Moses suffered under the handling of coarse human 
fingers. Without printed books or printing, or any of the 
thousand modern means of perpetuating ideas, the Jews were 
constantly tempted to lapse into the customs of the heathen 
tribes around. The question whether Jehovah or Baal were 
God was kept open for discussion, and sometimes, for long 
periods, idolatry prevailed.. Then came the subjugation and 
the miseries of a foreign yoke, and the words of Moses were 
fulfilled: ‘‘ Because thou servedst not the Lord thy God, with 
joyfulness, and with gladness of heart, for the abundance of 
all things, therefore shalt thou serve the enemy whom the 
Lord shall send against thee, in hunger and in thirst, and in 
nakedness, and in want of all things; and he shall put a yoke 
of iron on thy neck, till he have destroyed thee.” | 

The history of the Jewish nation, in the Book of Judges, pre- 
sents a succession of these periods of oppression, and of deliver- 
ance by a series of divinely inspired leaders, sent in answer to 
repentant prayers. It is entirely in keeping with the whole char- 
acter of the Mosaic institutions, and the customs of the Jewish 
people, that one of these inspired deliverers should be a woman. 
We are not surprised at the familiar manner in which it is an- 
nounced, as a thing quite in the natural order, that the chief 
magistrate of the Jewish nation, for the time being, was a woman 
divinely ordained and gifted. Thus the story is introduced : — 

‘And the children of Israel did evil in the sight of the Lord 
when Ehud was dead, and the Lord sold them into the hands of 
_Jdabin, King of Canaan, that reigned in Hasor, the captain of 
whose host was Sisera, which dwelt in Harosheth of the Gentiles. 
And the children of Israel cried unto the Lord; for he had nine 
hundred chariots of iron, and twenty years he mightily oppressed 
the children of Israel. And Deborah, the prophetess, the wife 
of Lapidoth, she judged Israel at that time. And she dwelt 
under the palm-tree of Deborah, between Ramah and Bethel, in 


DEBORAH THE PROPHETESS. 


Mount Ephraim, and the children of Israel came up to her for 
judgment. And she sent and called Barak, the son of Abinoam, 
and said unto him: Hath not the Lord God of Israel said, Go 
draw towards Mount Tabor, and take with thee ten thousand 
men of the children of Zebulun and the children of Naphtali? 
And I will draw unto thee, at the river Kishon, Sisera, the cap- 
tain of Jabin’s army, with his chariots and his multitude, and 
I will deliver him into thy hands. And Barak said: If thow wilt 
ovo with me, I will go; but if thou wilt not go with me, I will 
not go. And she said: I will surely go with thee; notwith- 
standing, the journey that thou takest shall not be for thine 
honor, for the Lord shall sell Sisera into the hand of a woman.” 

In all this we have a picture of the reverence and confi- 
dence with which, in those days, the inspired woman was re- 
garded. The palm-tree which shaded her house becomes a 
historical monument, and is spoken of as a well-known object. 
The warlike leader of the nation comes to her submissively, 
listens to her message as to a divine oracle, and obeys. He 
dares not go up to battle without her, but if she will go he 
will follow her. The prophetess is a wife, but her husband is 
known to posterity only through her. Deborah was the wife 
of Lapidoth, and therefore Lapidoth is had in remembrance even 
down to our nineteenth century. 

This class of prophetic and inspired women appear to have © 
been the poets of their time. They were, doubtless, possessed 
of that fine ethereal organization, fit to rise into the higher 
regions of ecstasy, wherein the most exalted impressions and 
enthusiasms spring, as birds under tropic sunshine. The Jew- 
ish woman was intensely patriotic. She was a living, breathing 
impersonation of the spirit of her nation; and the hymn of 
victory chanted by Deborah, after the issue of the conflict, is 
one of the most spirited specimens of antique poetry. In order 
to sympathize with it fully, we must think of the condition of 
woman: in those days, when under the heel of the oppressor. 
The barriers and protections which the laws of Moses threw 
around the Jewish women inspired in them a sense of self- 
respect and personal dignity which rendered the brutal out- 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


rages inflicted upon captives yet more intolerable. The law 
of Moses commanded the Jewish warrior who took a captive 
woman to respect her person and her womanhood. If he de- 
sired her, it must be as a lawful wife; and even as a husband he 
must not force himself at once upon her. He must bring her to 
his house, and allow her a month to reconcile herself to her cap- 
tivity, before he took her to himself. But among the nations 
around, woman was the prey of whoever could seize and appro- 
priate her. : 

The killing of Sisera by Jael has been exclaimed over by 
modern sentimentalists as something very shocking. But let 
us remember how the civilized world felt when, not long since, 
the Austrian tyrant Heynau outraged noble Hungarian and 
Italian women, subjecting them to brutal stripes and indignities. 
When the civilized world heard that he had been lynched by the 
brewers of London, — cuffed, and pommeled, and rolled in the 
dust, — shouts of universal applause went up, and the verdict of 
society was, ‘Served him right.” Deborah saw, in the tyrant 
thus overthrown, the ravisher and brutal tyrant of helpless 
women, and she extolled the spirit by which Jael had en- 
trapped the ferocious beast, whom her woman’s weakness could 
not otherwise have subdued. 

There is a beautiful commentary on the song of Deborah in 
Herder’s ‘Spirit of Hebrew Poetry.” He gives a charming 
translation, to which we refer any one who wishes to study the 
oldest poem by a female author on record. The verse ascribed to 
Miriam seems to have been only the chorus of the song of Moses, 
and, for aught that appears, may have been composed by him; 
but this song of Deborah is of herself alone. It.is one of the 
noblest expressions of devout patriotism in literature. 

We subjoin a version of this poem, in which we have modi- 
fied, in accordance with Herder, some passages of our ordinary 
translation. 

“Praise ye Jehovah for the avenging of Israel, 
When the people willingly offered themselves. 
Hear, O ye kings ; give ear, O ye princes. 


I will sing praise to Jehovah ; 
I will praise Jehovah, God of Israel. 


DEBORAH THH PROPHETESS. 


Jehovah, when thou wentest out from Seir, 
When thou marchedst from Edom, 

The earth trembled and the heavens dropped, 
The clouds also poured down water.” 


The song now changes, to picture the miseries of an enslaved 
people, who were deprived of arms and weapons, and exposed 
at any hour and moment to the incursions of robbers and 
murderers : — 


“In the days of Shamgar, the son of Anath, 
In the days of Jael, 
The highways were unoccupied, 
And travelers walked through by-ways. 
The inhabitants ceased from the villages, 
Till I, Deborah, arose. 
I arose a mother in Israel. 
They went after strange gods ; 
Then came the war to their gates. 
Was there then a shield or a spear 
Among forty thousand in Israel ?” 


The theme then changes, to celebrate those whose patriotic 
bravery had redeemed their country : — 


“My heart throbs to the governors of Israel 

That offered themselves willingly among the people. 
Bless ye Jehovah ! 

Speak, ye that ride on white asses, 

Ye that sit in judgment, and ye that walk by the way, 

They that are delivered from the noise of archers 

In the place of drawing water, 

There shall they rehearse the righteous acts of Jehovah, 

His righteous acts towards the inhabitants of the villages. 

Then shall the people go down to the gates. 

Awake! awake! Deborah, 

Awake! awake! utter a song! 

Arise, Barak, and lead captivity captive, 

Thou son of Abinoam !” 


After this, another change: she reviews, with all a woman’s 
fiery eloquence, the course which the tribes have taken in the 
contest, giving praise to the few courageous, self-sacrificing 
patriots, and casting arrows of satire and scorn on the cowardly 
and selfish. For then, as in our modern times, there were all 


sorts of men. There were those of the brave, imprudent, gen- 
11 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


erous, ‘‘do-or-die” stamp, and there were the selfish conser- 
vatives, who only waited and talked. So she says :— 


“Tt was but a small remnant that went forth against the mighty. 
The people of Jehovah went with me against the mighty. 
The march began with Ephraim, 
The root of the army was from him ; 
With him didst thou come, Benjamin! 
Out of Machir came down the leaders ; 
Out of Zebulun the marshals of forces ; 
And the princes of Issachar were with Deborah. 
Issachar, the life-guard of Barak, 
Sprang like a hind into the battle-field !” 


It appears that the tribe of Reuben had only been roused 
so far as to talk about the matter. They had been brought up 
to the point of an animated discussion whether they should help 
or not. The poetess thus jeers at them :— 


“ By the brooks of Reuben there were great talkings and inquiries. 
Why abodest thou in thy sheepfolds, Reuben ? 
Was it to hear the bleating of the flocks ? 
By the brooks of Reuben were great talks [but nothing more]. 
Gilead, too, abode beyond Jordan ; 
And why did Dan remain in his ships? 
Asher stayed on the sea-shore and remained in his harbor. 
Zebulun and Naphtali risked their lives unto the death 
In the high places of the field of battle.” 


Now comes the description of the battle. It appears that a 
sudden and violent rain-storm and an inundation helped to rout 
the enemy and gain the victory; and the poetess breaks forth :— 


“The kings came and fought ; 
The kings of Canaan in Taanach, by the waters of Megiddo ; 
They brought away no treasure. 
They fought ; from heaven the stars in their courses 
They fought against Sisera. 
The river Kishon swept them down, 
That ancient river, Kishon. 
O my soul! walk forth with strength ! 
Then was the rattling of hoofs of horses ! 
They rushed back, — the horses of the mighty.” 


And now the solemn sound of a prophetic curse : — 


“Curse ye Meroz, saith the angel of Jehovah, 
Curse ye bitterly the inhabitants thereof, 


DEBORAH THE PROPHETESS. 


Because they came not to the help of Jehovah, 
To the help of Jehovah against the mighty !” 


Then follows a burst of blessing on the woman who had slain 
the oppressor; in which we must remember, it is a woman driven 
to the last extreme of indignation at outrages practiced on her 
sex that thus rejoices. When the tiger who has slain help- 
less women and children is tracked to his lair, snared, and 
caught, a shout of exultation goes up; and there are men so 
cruel and brutal that even humanity rejoices in their destruction. 
There is something repulsive in the thought of the artifice and 
treachery that beguiled and betrayed the brigand chief. But 
woman cannot meet her destroyer in open, hand-to-hand conflict. 
She is thrown perforce on the weapons of physical weakness ; 
and Deborah exults in the success of the artifice with all the 
warmth of her indignant soul. 


“ Blessed above women be Jael, the wife of Heber the Kenite ! 
Blessed shall she be above women in the tent ! 
He asked water and she gave him milk ; 

She brought forth butter in a lordly dish. 

She put her hand to the nail, 

Her right hand to the workman’s hammer. 
With the hammer she smote Sisera, 

She smote off his head. 

When she had stricken through his temple, 
At her feet he bowed, he fell, he lay prostrate. 
At her feet he bowed, he fell. 

Where he bowed, there he fell down dead !” 


The outrages on wives, mothers, and little children, during 
twenty years of oppression, gives energy to this blessing on 
the woman who dared to deliver. 

By an exquisite touch of the poetess, we are reminded what 
must have been the fate of all Judzean women except for this 
nail of Jael. 


“The mother of Sisera looked out at a window. 
She cried through the lattice, 
Why delay the wheels of his chariot ? 
Why tarries the rattle of his horse-hoofs ? 
Her wise ladies answered : yea, she spake herself. 
Have they not won? Have they not divided the prey ? 
To every man a virgin or two ; 


Re cial 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


To Sisera a prey of divers colors, of divers colors and gold embroidery, 
Meet for the necks of them that take the spoil.” 


In the reckoning of this haughty princess, a noble Judean 
lady, with her gold embroideries and raiment of needle-work, 
is only an ornament meet for the neck of the conqueror, —a 
toy, to be paraded in triumph. The song now rises with one 
erand, solemn swell, like the roll of waves on the sea-shore : — 


“So let all thine enemies perish, O Jehovah ! 
But let them that love thee shine forth as the sun in his strength.” 


And as this song dies away, so passes all mention of Deborah. 
No other fragment of poetry or song from her has come down 
from her age to us. This one song, like a rare fragment of some 
deep-sea flower, broken off by a storm of waters, has floated up 
to tell of her. We shall see, as we follow down the line of 
history, that women of this lofty poetic inspiration were the 
natural product of the Jewish laws and institutions. They grew 
out of them, as certain flowers grow out of certain soils. To 
this class belonged Hannah, the mother of Samuel, and Huldah, 


_ the prophetess, and, in the fullness of time, Mary, the mother 


of Jesus, whose Magnificat was the earliest flower of the 
Christian era. Mary was prophetess and poet, the last and 
greatest of a long and noble line of women, in whom the finer 
feminine nature had been kindled into a divine medium of in- 
spiration, and burst forth in poetry and song as in a natural . 
language. 


Soak pis moe ork ep 
Rte (Ales 


DELILAH THE DESTROYER. 


HE pictures of womanhood in the Bible are not con- 
fined to subjects of the better class. 
Dy There is always a shadow to light; and shadows are 

* deep, intense, in proportion as light is vivid. There is 
in bad women a terrible energy of evil which lies over against 
the angelic and prophetic power given to them, as Hell against 
Heaven. 

In the long struggles of the Divine Lawgiver with the idol- 
atrous tendencies of man, the evil as well as the good influence of 
woman is recognized. ‘There are a few representations of loath- 
some vice and impurity left in the sacred records, to show how 
utterly and hopelessly corrupt the nations had become -whom 
the Jews were commanded to exterminate. Incurable licentious- 
ness and unnatural vice had destroyed the family state, trans- 
formed religious services into orgies of lust, and made woman 
a corrupter, instead of a saviour. The idolatrous temples and 
groves and high places against which the prophets continually 
thunder were scenes of abominable vice and demoralization. | 

No danger of the Jewish race is more insisted on in sacred 
history and literature than the bad power of bad women, and the 
weakness of men in their hands. Whenever idolatry is intro- 
duced among them it is always largely owing to the arts and 
devices of heathen women. 

The story of Samson seems to have been specially arranged 
as a warning in this regard. It is a picture drawn in such exag- 
gerated colors and proportions that it might strike the lowest 
mind and be understood by the dullest. As we have spoken of 
the period of the Judges as corresponding to the Dark Ages of 
Christianity, so the story of Samson corresponds in some points 
with the medizval history of St. Christopher. In both is pre- 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


sented the idea of a rugged animal nature, the impersonation 
of physical strength, without much moral element, but seized 
on and used by a divine impulse for a beneficent purpose. 
Samson had strength, and he used it to keep alive this sacerdotal 
nation, this race from whom were to spring the future apostles 
and prophets and teachers of our Christianity. 

Like some unknown plant of rare flower and fruit, cast out to 
struggle in ungenial soil, nipped, stunted, browsed down by 
cattle, trodden down by wild beasts, the Jewish race, in the 
times of the Book of Judges showed no capability of producing 
such men as Isaiah and Paul and John, much less Jesus. Yet, 
humanly speaking, in this stock, now struggling for bare national 
existence, and constantly in danger of being trampled out, was 
contained the capacity of unfolding, through Divine culture, 
such heavenly blossoms as Jesus and his apostles. 

In fact, then, the Christian religion, with all its possibilities of 
hope and happiness for the human race, lay at this period germi- 
nant, in seed form, in a crushed and struggling race. Hence the 
history of Samson; hence the reason why he who possessed 
scarcely a moral element of character is spoken of as under the 
guidance of the Spirit of the Lord. A blind impulse inspired 
him to fight for the protection of his nation against the barbarous 
tribes that threatened their destruction, and with this impulse 
came rushing floods of preternatural strength. With the history 
of this inspired giant is entwined that of a woman whose name 
has come to stand as a generic term for a class, — Delilah! It is 
astonishing with what wonderful dramatic vigor a few verses 
create before us this woman so vividly and so perfectly that she 
has been recognized from age to age. 

Delilah! not the frail sinner falling through too much love; 
not the weak, downtrodden woman, the prey of man’s superior 
force; but the terrible creature, artful and powerful, who triumphs 
over man, and uses man’s passions for her own ends, without an 
answering throb of passion. As the strength of Samson lies in 
his hair, so the strength of Delilah lies in her hardness of heart. 
If she could love, her power would depart from her. Love 
brings weakness and tears that make the hand tremble and the 


DELILAH THE DESTROYER. 


eye dim. But she who cannot love is guarded at all points; 
her hand never trembles, and no soft, fond weakness dims 
her eye so that she cannot see the exact spot where to strike. 
Delilah has her wants, — she wants money, she wants power, — 
and men are her instruments; she will make them her slaves to 
do her pleasure. 

Samson, like the great class of men in whom physical 
strength predominates, appears to have been constitutionally 
good-natured and persuadable, with a heart particularly soft 
towards woman. He first falls in love with a Philistine 
woman whom he sees, surrendering almost without parley. 
His love is animal passion, with good-natured softness of 
temper; it 1s inconsiderate, insisting on immediate gratifica- 
tion. Though a Nazarite, vowed to the service of the Lord, 
yet happening to see this woman, he says forthwith: ‘I have 
seen a woman in Timnath, of the daughters of the Philistines ; 
therefore get her for me for a wife. Then said his father and 
his mother, Is there never a woman of the daughters of thy 
people, that thou goest to take a Philistine woman to wife? 
But he said, Get her for me; for she pleaseth me well.” 

She is got; and then we find the strong man, through his 
passion for her, becoming the victim of the Philistines. He 
puts out a riddle for them to guess. ‘‘ And they said to Sam- 
son’s wife, Entice thy husband that he may declare unto us 
the riddle. And Samson’s wife wept before him, and said, 
Thou dost but hate me, and lovest me not: thou hast put 
forth a riddle unto the children of my people and hast not 
told me. And she wept before him seven days, and on the 
seventh day he told her.” <A picture this of what has been 
done in kings’ palaces and poor men’s hovels ever since, — 
man’s strength was overcome and made the tool of woman’s 
weakness. 

We have now a record of the way this wife was taken from 
him, and of the war he declared against the Philistines, and 
of exploits which caused him to be regarded as the champion 
of his nation by the Hebrews, and as a terror by his enemies. 
He holds them in check, and defends his people, through a 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


course of years; and could he have ruled his own passions, 
he might have died victorious. The charms of a Philistine 
woman were stronger over the strong man than all the spears 
or swords of his enemies. 

The rest of the story reads like an allegory, so exactly does it 
describe that unworthy subservience of man to his own passions, ~ 
wherein bad women in all ages have fastened poisonous roots 
of power. The man is deceived and betrayed, with his eyes 
open, by a woman whom he does not respect, and who he can 
see is betraying him. The story is for all time. The temptress 
says: ‘How canst thou say, I love thee, when thy heart is not 
with me? Thou hast mocked me these three times, and hast 
not told me wherein thy great strength lieth. And it came 
to pass when she pressed him daily with her words, and 
urged him so that his soul was vexed to death, that he told 
her all his heart.” Then Delilah runs at once to her em- 
ployers. ‘She sent and called the lords of the Philistines, 
saying, Come up this once, he hath told me all his heart. 
And she made him sleep upon her knees; and called for a 
man, and bade him shave off. the seven locks, and his strength 
went from him. And she said, The Philistines be upon thee, 
~Samson, and he awoke and said, I will go out and shake my- 
self, as at other times, and he wist not that the Lord was de- 
parted from him. But the Philistines took him, and put on © 
him fetters of brass, and he did grind in their prison house.” 

Thus ignobly ends the career of a deliverer whose birth 
was promised to his parents by an angel, who was vowed to 
God, and had the gift of strength to redeem a nation. Under 
the wiles of an evil woman he lost all, and sunk lower than 
any slave into irredeemable servitude. 

The legends of ancient history have their parallels. Her- 
cules, the deliverer, made the scoff and slave of Omphale, and 
Antony, become the tool and scorn of Cleopatra, are but repe- 
titions of the same story. Samson victorious, all-powerful, 
carrying the gates of Gaza on his back, the hope of his 
countrymen and the terror of his enemies; and Samson shorn, 
degraded, bound, eyeless, grinding in the prison-house of those 


DELILAH THE DESTROYER. 


he might have subdued,—such was the lesson given to the 
Jews of the power of the evil woman. And the story which 
has repeated itself from age to age, is repeating itself to-day. 
There are women on whose knees men sleep, to awaken shorn 
of manliness, to be seized, bound, blinded, and made to grind 
in unmanly servitude forever. 

“She hath cast down many wounded, 

Yea, many strong men hath she slain ; 


Her house is the way to Hell, 
Going down to the chambers of Death.” 


12 


ise ee eee 


a 


a), 


JEPHTHAS DAUGHTER. 


HIS story, which has furnished so many themes for 
the poet and artist, belongs, like that of Samson, to 
the stormy and unsettled period of Jewish history 

: which is covered by the Book of Judges. 

Jephtha, an illegitimate son, is cast out by his brethren, goes 
off into a kind of border-land, and becomes, in that turbulent 
period, a leader of a somewhat powerful tribe. 

These times of the Judges remind us forcibly, in some re- 
spects, of the chivalric ages. There was the same oppor- 
tunity for an individual to rise to power by personal valor, and 
become an organizer and leader in society. A brave man was 
a nucleus around whom gathered others less brave, seeking 
protection, and the individual in time became a chieftain. The 
bravery of Jephtha was so great, and his power and consider- 
ation became such, that when his native land was invaded by 
the Ammonites, he was sent for by a solemn assembly of his 
people, and appointed their chief. Jephtha appears, from the 
story, to have been a straightforward, brave, generous, God- 
fearing man. 

The story of his vow is briefly told. ‘And Jephtha vowed 
a vow unto the Lord and said, If thou wilt without fail deliver 
the children of Ammon into my hands, then it shall be that 
whatsoever cometh first out of my door to meet me, when I 
return, shall be the Lord’s, and I will offer it as a whole offering 
unto the Lord.” The vow was recorded, a great victory was 
given, and the record says, ‘‘And Jephtha came to Mizpah, 
unto his house, and behold, his daughter came out to meet him 
with timbrels. She was his only child, and beside her he had 
neither son nor daughter. And it came to pass, when he saw 
her, that he rent his clothes, and said, Alas! my daughter, thou 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


hast brought me very low; for I have opened my mouth to the 
Lord, and cannot go back. And she said, My father, if thou 
hast opened thy mouth to the Lord, do to me according to that 
which hath proceeded out of thy mouth; forasmuch as the 
Lord hath taken vengeance for thee of thine enemies, even the 
children of Ammon. And she said unto her father, Let this 
thing be done for me: Let me alone two months, that I may 
go up and down upon the mountains to bewail my virginity, 
I and my fellows. And he said, Go. And he sent her away 
for two months, and she went with her companions and be- 
wailed her virginity upon the mountains. And it came to pass 
at the end of two months, that she returned to her father, who 
did with her according to his vow.” 

And what was that? The popular version generally has been 
that Jephtha killed his daughter, and offered her a burnt sacrifice. 
Josephus puts this interpretation upon it, saying that “he of- 
fered such an oblation as was neither conformable to the law 
nor acceptable to God; not weighing with himself what opinion 
the hearers would have of such a practice.” A large and very 
learned and respectable body of commentators among the Jews, 
both ancient and modern, deny this interpretation, and, as ap- 
pears to us, for the best of reasons. 

Jephtha was a Jew, and human sacrifice was above all things 
abhorrent to the Jewish law and to the whole national feeling. 
There is full evidence, in other pictures of life and manners 
given in the Book of Judges, that in spite of the turbulence of 
the times, there were in the country many noble, God-fearing 
men and women who intelligently understood and practiced the 
wise and merciful system of Moses. 

Granting that Jephtha, living in the heathen border-land, had 
mingled degrading superstitions with his faith, it seems im- 
probable that such men as Boaz, the husband of Ruth, Elkanah, 
the husband of Hannah, Manoah and his wife, the parents of 
Samson, and the kind of people with whom they associated, 
could have accepted, as Judge of Israel, a man whom their laws 
would regard as guilty of such a crime. Besides, the Jewish 
law contained direct provisions for such vows. In three or four 


JHPHTHAS DAUGHTER. 


places in the Jewish law, it is expressly stated that where a 
human being comes into the position of a whole offering to God, 
the life of that human being is not to be taken; and a process 
of substitution and redemption is pointed out. ‘Thus the first- 
born of all animals and the first-born of all men were alike 
commanded to be made whole offerings to the Lord: the ani- 
mals were slain and burnt, but the human being was redeemed. 
No one can deny that all these considerations establish a strong 
probability. 

Finally, when historians and commentators are divided as to a 
fact, we are never far out of the way in taking that solution 
which is most honorable to our common human nature, and the 
most in accordance with our natural wishes. We suppose, there- 
fore, that the daughter of Jephtha was simply taken from the or- 
dinary life of woman, and made an offering to the Lord. She 
could be no man’s wife; and with the feelings which were had in 
those days as to marriage, such a lot was to be lamented as the 
cutting off of all earthly hopes. It put an end to the house of 
Jephtha, as besides her he had no son or daughter, and it accounts 
for the language with which the account closes, ‘“She knew not 
a man,” —a wholly unnecessary statement, if it be meant to say 
that she was killed. The more we reflect upon it, the more 
probable it seems that this is the right view of the matter. 

The existence from early times among the Jews of an order 
of women who renounced the usual joys and privileges of the 
family state, to devote themselves to religious and charitable 
duties, is often asserted. Walter Scott, a learned authority as 
to antiquities, and one who seldom made a representation with- 
out examination, makes Rebecca, in Ivanhoe, declare to Rowena 
that from earliest times such an order of women had existed 
among her people, and to them she purposes to belong. 

We cannot leave the subject without pausing to wonder at 
the exquisite manner in which the historian, whoever he was, 
has set before us a high and lovely ideal of womanhood in 
this Judzean girl. There is but a sentence, yet what calm- 
ness, what high-mindedness, what unselfish patriotism, are in 
the words! ‘My father, if thou hast opened thy mouth to 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


the Lord, do to me according to thy promise, forasmuch as 
the Lord hath taken vengeance on thine enemies, the chil- 
dren of Ammon.” 

Whatever it was to which she so calmly acceded, it was 
to her the death of all earthly hope, calmly accepted in the 
very flush and morning tide of victory. How heroic the soul 
that could meet so sudden a reverse with so unmoved a 
spirit ! 


HANNAH THE PRAYING MOTHER. 


AQYHE story of Hannah is a purely domestic one, and 
fi, is most valuable in unveiling the intimate and trust- 
ful life of faith that existed between the Jehovah re- 
" vealed in the Old Testament and each separate soul, 
however retired and humble. It is not God the Lawgiver and 
King, but, if we may so speak, God in his private and con- 
fidential relations to the individual. The story opens briefly, 
after the fashion of the Bible, whose brevity in words is such 
a contrast to the tediousness of most professed sacred books. 

‘There was a man,” says the record, ‘named Elkanah, and 
he had two wives; and the name of the one was Hannah, and 
the name of the other Peninnah, and Peninnah had children, 
but Hannah had none.” Hannah, from the story, appears to 
have had one of those intense natures, all nerve and _ sensi- 
bility, on which every trouble lies with double weight. The 
lack of children in an age when motherhood was considered the 
essential glory of woman, was to her the climax of anguish 
and mortification. Nor was there wanting the added burden 
of an unfriendly party to notice and to inflame the hidden 
wound by stinging commentaries; for we are told that ‘her 
adversary provoked her sore, to make her fret.” And _ thus, 
year by year, as the family went up to the sacred feast at 
Shiloh, and other exultant mothers displayed their fair sons 
and daughters, the sacred feast was turned into gall for the 
unblest one, and we are told that Hannah “wept and did 
not eat.” “Then said Elkanah unto her, Hannah, why weep- 
est thou? and why eatest thou not? and why is thy heart 
grieved? Am I not better to thee than ten sons?” 

Hannah was one of a class of women in whom genius and 
a poetic nature are struggling with a vague intensity, giving 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


the keenest edge to desire and to disappointment. All Judzean 
women desire children, but Hannah had that vivid sense of 
nationality, that identification of self with the sublime future 
of her people, that made it bitter to be excluded from all 
share in those hopes and joys of motherhood from which the 
earth’s deliverer was to spring. She desired a son, as poets 
desire song, as an expression of all that was heroic and unex- 
pressed in herself, and as a tribute to the future glories of 
her people. A poet stricken with paralysis might suffer as she 
suffered. But it was a kind and degree of sorrow, the result 
of an exceptional nature, which few could comprehend. To 
some it would afford occasion only for vulgar jests. Even 
her husband, devoted as he was, wondered at rather than 
sympathised with it. 

It appears that there rose at last one of those flood-tides of 
feeling when the soul cries out for relief, and must have a Helper; 
and Hannah bethought her of the words of Moses, ‘‘ What nation 
is there that hath their God so nigh unto them as the Lord our 
God is unto us, for all that we call unto him for?” It is pre- 
cisely for such sorrows — intimate, private, personal, and not to 
be comprehended fully by any earthly friend —that an All-see- 
ing, loving Father is needed. And Hannah followed the teach- 
ings of her religion when she resolved to make a confidant of her 
God, and ask of him the blessing her soul fainted for. She chose © 
the sacred feast at Shiloh for the interview with the gracious 
Helper; and, after the festival, remained alone in the holy place 
in an ecstasy of fervent prayer. The narrative says: ‘‘And she 
was in bitterness of soul and prayed unto the Lord and wept 
sore. And she vowed a vow and said, O Lord of Hosts, if thou 
wilt indeed look on the affliction of thine handmaid, and re- 
member me, and not forget thine handmaid, but will give unto 
thine handmaid a man-child, then will I give him unto the Lord 
all the days of his life. And it came to pass as she continued 
praying before the Lord, that Eli marked her mouth. Now 
Hannah she spake in her heart, only her lips moved, but her 
voice was not heard; therefore Eli thought she had been 
drunken.” 


HANNAH THE PRAYING MOTHER. 


He — dear, kind-hearted, blundering old priest — reproved her 
with about as much tact as many similar, well-meaning, obtuse 
people use nowadays in the management of natures whose - 
heights and depths they cannot comprehend. Hannah meekly 
answers: ‘‘No, my lord, I am a woman of a sorrowful spirit; I 
have drunk neither wine nor strong drink, but have poured out 
my soul before the Lord. Count not thy handmaid for a daugh- 
ter of Belial, for out of the abundance of my complaint and grief 
have I spoken hitherto. Then Eli answered and said, Go in 
peace, the God of Israel grant thee thy petition thou hast asked 
of him. And she said, Let thine handmaid find grace in thy 
sight. So the woman went her way and did eat, and her counte- 
nance was no more sad.” 

This experience illustrates that kind of prevailing prayer that 
comes when the soul, roused to the full intensity of its being by 
the pressure of some anguish, pours itself out like a wave into 
the bosom of its God. The very outgush is a relief; there is 
healing in the very act of self-abandonment, as the whole soul 
casts itself on God. And though there be no present fulfillment, 
yet, in point of fact, peace and rest come to the spirit. Hannah 
had no voice of promise, no external sign, only the recorded 
promise of God to hear prayer; but the prayer brought relief. 
All the agony of desire passed away. Her countenance was no 
more sad. In due time, the visible answer came. Hannah was 
made the happy mother of a son, whom she called Samuel, or 
“Asked of God.” 

This year, when the family went up to Shiloh, Hannah re- 
mained with her infant; for she said to her husband, ‘I will not 
go up until the child be weaned; and then will I bring him that 
he may appear before the Lord, and there abide forever.” The 
period of weaning was of a much later date among Jewish 
women than in modern times; and we may imagine the little 
Samuel three or four years old when his mother prepares, with 
all solemnity, to carry him and present him in the temple as her 
offering to God. ‘And when she had weaned him she took him 
up with her, with three bullocks, and one ephah of flour, and a 


bottle of wine, and brow ht him unto the house of the Lord in 
13 


WOMAN IN SACKED HISTORY. 


Shiloh; and the child was young. And they slew a bullock, and 
brought the child to Eli. And she said, O my lord, as thy soul 
liveth, my lord, I am the woman that stood by thee here praying 
unto the Lord. For this child I prayed, and the Lord hath 
given me my petition which I asked of him. Therefore also 
have I lent him to the Lord; as long as he liveth he shall be 
lent to the Lord. And she worshiped the Lord there.” 

And now the depths of this silent woman’s soul break forth 
into a song of praise and thanksgiving. Hannah rises before us 
as the inspired poetess, and her song bears a striking resem- 
blance in theme and in cast of thought to that of Mary the mother 
of Jesus, years after. Indeed, there is in the whole history of 
this sacred and consecrated child, a foreshadowing of that more 
celestial flower of Nazareth that should yet arise from the Judean 
stock. This idea of a future Messiah and King permeated every 
pious soul in the nation, and gave a solemn intensity to the 
usual rejoicings of motherhood; for who knew whether the 
auspicious child might not spring from her lineage! We see, 
in the last verse of this poem, that Hannah’s thoughts in her 
hour of joy fix themselves on the glorious future of the coming 
King and Anointed One as the climax of her joy. 

It will be interesting to compare this song of Hannah with 
that of Mary, and notice how completely the ideas of the earlier 
mother had melted and transfused themselves into the heart of 
Mary. Years after, when the gathering forces of the Church and 
State were beginning to muster themselves against Martin Luther, 
and he stood as one man against a world, he took refuge in 
this song of the happy woman; printed it as a tract, with 
pointed commentaries, and spread it all over Europe; and in 
thousands of hamlets hearts were beating to the heroic words 
of the Judzan mother : — 


‘My heart rejoiceth in Jehovah, 
My horn is exalted in Jehovah ; 
My speech shall flow out over my enemies, 
Because I rejoice in thy salvation. 
There is none holy as Jehovah : 
For there is none beside thee : 
Neither is there any rock like our God. 


HANNAH THE PRAYING MOTHER. 


Talk no more so exceeding proudly ; 

Let not arrogance come out of thy mouth : 
For Jehovah is a God of knowledge, 

By him are actions weighed. 

The bows of mighty men are broken, 

But the weak are girded with strength. 

The rich have hired out for bread ; 

But the hungry cease from want. 

The barren woman hath borne seven ; 

The fruitful one hath grown feeble. 
Jehovah killeth and maketh alive ; 

He bringeth down to the grave and bringeth up. 
Jehovah maketh poor and maketh rich ; 
He bringeth low, and lifteth up. 

He raiseth the poor out of the dust, 

He lifteth the beggar from the dunghill, 
To set them among princes, 

To make them inherit the throne of glory ; 
For the pillars of the earth are Jehovah’s, 
He hath set the world upon them. 

He will keep the feet of his saints, 

The wicked shall be silent in darkness ; 
For by strength no man shall prevail. 

The adversaries of Jehovah shall be broken to pieces ; 
Out of heaven shall he thunder upon them. 
Jehovah shall judge the ends of the earth ; 
He shall give strength unto his King, 

And exalt the horn of his Anointed.” 


This song shows the fire, the depth, the fervency of the nature 
of this woman, capable of rising to the sublimest conceptions. 
It is the ecstasy of the triumph of conscious weakness in an om- 
nipotent protector. Through her own experience, as it is with 
every true soul, she passes to the experience of universal hu- 
manity; in her Deliverer she sees the Deliverer and Helper of 
all the helpless and desolate; and thus, through the gate of per- 
sonal experience, she comes to a wide sympathy with all who 
live. She loves her God, not mainly and only for what he is to 
her, but for what he is to all. How high and splendid were 
these conceptions and experiences that visited and hallowed the 
life of the simple and lowly Jewish woman in those rugged and 
unsettled periods, and what beautiful glimpses do we get of the 
good and honest-hearted people that lived at that time in Pales- 
tine, and went up yearly to worship at Shiloh! 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


After this we have a few more touches in this beautiful story. 
The little one remained in the temple; for it is said, ‘“‘ And 
Samuel ministered before the Lord, being a child, girded with a 
linen ephod. Moreover, his mother made him a little coat and 
brought it to him from year to year, when she came up with her 
husband to offer the yearly sacrifice.” How the little one was 
cared for the story does not say. In some passages of the Bible, 
we have intimations of an order of consecrated women who de- 
voted themselves to the ministries of the temple, like Anna the 
prophetess, ‘‘ who departed not from the temple, but served God 
with fasting and prayer, night and day.” Doubtless from the 
hands of such were motherly ministries. One rejoices to hear 
that the Gracious Giver blessed this mother abundantly more 
than she asked or thought; for we are told that a family of 
three sons and two daughters were given to her. 

We cannot forbear to add to this story that of the sacred little 
one, who grew fair as the sheltered lily in the house of God. 
Child of prayer, born in the very ardor and ecstasy of a soul 
uplifted to God, his very nature seemed heavenly, and the 
‘benignant Father early revealed himself to him, choosing him as 
a medium for divine messages. One of the most thrilling and 
poetic passages in the Bible describes the first call of the Divine 
One to the consecrated child. The lamps burning in the holy 
place ; the little one lying down to sleep; the mysterious voice 
calling him; his innocent wonder, and the slow perception of 
old Eli of the true significance of the event, —all these form a 
beautiful introduction to the life of the last and most favored 
of those prophetic magistrates who interpreted to the Jewish 
people the will of God. Samuel was the last of the Judges, — 
the strongest, the purest, and most blameless, —the worthy 
son of such a mother. 


EOE, eal Ci al ML Ed Ria ike 8 ME 


ee ee te Se en eee ee 


RUTH THE MOABITESS. 


4. HE story of Ruth is a beautiful idyl of domestic life, 
opening to us in the barbarous period of the Judges. 
In reading some of the latter chapters of that book, 
one might almost think that the system of Moses had 
proved a failure, and that the nation was lapsing back into the 
savage state of the heathen world around them; just as, in 
reading the history of the raids and feuds of the Middle Ages, 
one might consider Christianity a failure. But in both cases 
there were nooks and dells embosomed in the wild roughness 
of unsettled society, where good and honest hearts put forth 
blossoms of immortal sweetness and perfume. This history of 
Ruth unveils to us pictures of the best people and the best sort 
of life that were formed by the laws and institutes of Moses, 
a life pastoral, simple, sincere, reverential, and benevolent. 
The story is on this wise: A famine took place in the land 
of Judah, and a man named Elimelech went with his wife and 
two sons to sojourn in the land of Moab. ‘The sons took each 
of them a wife of the daughters of Moab, and they dwelt there 
about ten years. After that, the man and both the sons died, 
and the mother, with her two widowed young daughters, pre- 
pared to return to her kindred. Here the scene of the little 
drama opens. | 

The mother, Naomi, comes to our view, a kind-hearted, com- 
monplace woman, without any strong religious faith or possi- 
bility of heroic exaltation, — just one of those women who see 
the hard, literal side of a trial, ungilded by any faith or hope. 
We can fancy her discouraged and mournful air, and hear the 
melancholy croak in her voice as she talks to her daughters, 
when they profess their devotion to her, and their purpose to 
share her fortunes and go with her to the land of Israel. 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


“Turn again, my daughters; why will ye go with me? 
Are there yet any more sons in my womb, that they may be 
your husbands? ‘Turn again, my daughters, go your way, for 
I am too old to have an husband. If I should say that I have 
hope to-night that I should have an husband, and bear sons, 
would ye tarry for them till they were grown? Would ye 
stay from having husbands? Nay, my daughters, it grieveth 
me for your sake that the hand of the Lord hath gone out 
against me.” 

This pre-eminently literal view of the situation seemed to 
strike one of the daughters as not to be gainsaid; for we read: 
“And they lifted up their voices and wept again, and Orpah 
kissed her mother-in-law, but Ruth clave unto her.” 

All the world through, from that time to this, have been 
these two classes of friends. The one weep, and kiss, and 
leave us to our fate, and go to seek their own fortunes. There 
are plenty of that sort every day. But the other are one with 
us for life or death. 

The literal-minded, sorrowful old woman has no thought of 
inspiring such devotion. Orpah, in her mind, has done the 
sensible and only thing in leaving her, and she says to Ruth: 
‘Behold, thy sister has returned unto her people and unto her 
gods; return thou after thy sister-in-law.” 

We see in this verse how devoid of religious faith is the 
mother. In a matter-of-course tone she speaks of Orpah hay- 
ing gone back to her gods, and recommends Ruth to do the 
like. And now the fair, sweet Ruth breaks forth in an uncon- 
scious poetry of affection, which has been consecrated as the 
language of true love ever since: ‘‘ Kntreat me not to leave 
thee, or to return from following after thee; for whither thou 
goest I will go, and where thou lodgest I will lodge: thy peo- 
ple shall be my people, and thy God my God. Where thou 
diest I will die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so 
to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me.” 

Troth-plight of fondest lovers, marriage-vows straitest and 
most devoted, can have no love-language beyond this; it is 
the very crystallized and diamond essence of constancy and 


RUTH THE MOABITESS. 


devotion. It is thus that minds which have an unconscious 
power of enthusiasm surprise and dominate their literal fellow- 
pilgrims. It is as if some silent dun-colored bird had broken 
out into wondrous ecstasies of silver song. Naomi looked on 
her daughter, and the narrative says, ‘‘ When she saw that 
she was steadfastly minded to go with her, then she left speak- 
ing to her.” But Ruth is ignorant of the beauty of her own 
nature; for Love never knows herself or looks in a mirror 
to ask if she be fair; and though her superior moral and 
emotive strength prevail over the lower nature of the mother, 
it is with a sweet, unconscious, yielding obedience that she 
follows her. 

When they came back to their kindred, the scene is touch- 
ingly described. In her youth the mother had been gay and 
radiant, as her name, Naomi, ‘ pleasant,” signifies. ‘ And it 
came to pass that when they came in, all the village was 
moved about them, and they said: Is this Naomi? And she 
said: ‘Call me not Naomi, call me Marah [bitterness]; for 
the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me. I went out 
full, and the Lord hath brought me again empty. Why then 
call ye me Naomi, seeing the Lord hath testified against me, 
and the Almighty hath afflicted me?” 

We see here a common phase of a low order of religion. 
Naomi does not rebel at the Divine decree. She thinks that 
she is bitterly dealt with, but that there is no use in complain- 
ing, because it is the Almighty that has done it. It does not 
even occur to her that in going away from the land of true 
religion, and encouraging her sons to form marriages in a hea- 
then land, she had done anything to make this affliction need- 
ful; and yet the whole story shows that but for this stroke 
the whole family would have settled down contentedly among 
the Moabites, and given up country and religion and God. 
There are many nowadays to whom just such afflictions are 
as needful, and to whom they seem as bitter and inexplic- 
able. : 

The next scene shows us the barley-field of the rich pro- 
prietor, — ‘‘a mighty man, a man of wealth,” the narrative 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


calls him. Young men and maidens, a goodly company, are 
reaping, binding, and gathering. In the shade are the parched 
corn and sour wine, and other provisions set forth for the 
noontide rest and repast. 

The gracious proprietor, a noble-minded, gentle old man, 
now comes upon the scene. ‘And behold, Boaz came from 
Bethlehem, and said to the reapers, The Lord be with you; 
and they answered, The Lord bless thee.” The religious spirit — 
of the master spread itself through all his hands, and the bless- 
ing that he breathes upon them was returned to him. The 
sacred simplicity of the scene is beyond praise. 

He inquires of his men the history of this fair one who 
modestly follows the reapers, and, finding who she is, says: 
‘Wearest thou, my daughter, go not to glean in any other 
field, but abide here with my maidens. Let thine eyes be 
upon the field that they reap, and go after them: have I 
not charged the young men not to touch thee? and when thou 
art athirst, go to the vessels and drink of that that the young 
men have drawn.” Then she bowed herself and said: ‘ Why 
have I found grace in thine eyes, that thou shouldst take 
knowledge of me, seeing I am a stranger?” And he said: ‘It 
hath been fully shown unto me all that thou hast done to thy 
mother-in-law since the death of thy husband; how thou hast 
left thy father and thy mother, and the land of thy nativity, 
and art come to a people that thou knewest not heretofore. 
The Lord recompense thy work, and a full reward be given 
thee of the God of Israel, under whose wings thou art come 
to trust.” 

We have afterwards the picture of the young gleaner made 
at home at the noontide repast, where the rich proprietor sat 
with his servants in parental equality, — “‘ And she sat beside 
the reapers, and he did reach her parched corn, and she did 
eat and was sufficed.” 

There is a delicacy in the feeling inspired by the timid, 
modest stranger, which is expressed in the orders given by 
Boaz to the young men. ‘And it came to pass when she 
rose to glean, that Boaz commanded his young men, saying: 


RUTH THE MOABITESS. 


Let her glean even among the sheaves, and reproach her not; 
and let fall also some handfuls of purpose for her, that she 
may glean them, and rebuke her not.” 

Gleaning, by the institutes of Moses, was one of the allotted 
privileges of the poor. It was a beautiful feature of that sys- 
tem that consideration for the poor was interwoven with all 
the acts of common life. The language of the laws of Moses 
reminded the rich that they were of one family with the poor. 
“Thou shalt not harden thy heart nor shut thy hand from 
thy poor brother. 'Thou shalt surely give to him, and thy 
heart shall not be grieved when thou givest, because for this 
the Lord thy God shall bless thee.” ‘And when ye reap the 
harvest of your land thou shalt not wholly reap the corners 
of the field, neither shalt thou gather the gleanings of thy 
harvest; and thou shalt not glean thy vineyard, neither shalt 
thou gather every grape of thy vineyard; thou shalt leave 
them for the poor and the stranger. I am the Lord.” This 
provision for the unfortunate operated both ways. It taught 
consideration and thoughtfulness to the rich, and industry and 
self-respect to the poor. They were not humbled as paupers. 
They were not to be beggars, but gleaners, and a fair field 
for self-respecting labor was opened to them. In the spirit of 
these generous laws the rich proprietor veils his patronage of 
the humble maid. Ruth was to be abundantly helped, as it 
were, by a series of fortunate accidents. 

We see in the character of Boaz the high-minded, chivalrous 
gentleman, devout in his religion Godward, and considerately 
thoughtful of his neighbor; especially mindful of the weak and 
helpless and unprotected. It was the working out, in one 
happy instance, of the ideal of manhood the system of Moses 
was designed to create. 

And now the little romance goes on to a happy termina-. 
tion. The fair gleaner returns home artlessly triumphant with 
the avails of her day’s toil, and tells her mother of the kind 
patronage she has received. At once, on hearing the name, 
the prudent mother recognizes the near kinsman of the family, 
bound, by the law of Moses and the custom of the land, 

14 


WOMAN IN SACKED HISTORY. 


to become the husband and protector of her daughter. In 
the eye of Jewish law and Jewish custom Ruth already 
belonged to Boaz, and had a right to claim tHe position and 
protection of a wife. The system of Moses solved the problem 
of woman by allotting to every woman a man as a protector. 
A widow had her son to stand for her; but if a widow were left 
without a son, then the nearest kinsman of the former husband 
was bound to take her to wife. The manner in which Naomi 
directs the simple-minded and obedient daughter to throw her- 
self on the protection of her rich kinsman is so far removed 
from all our modern ideas of propriety that it cannot be judged 
by them. She is directed to seek the threshing-floor at night, 
to lie down at his feet, and draw over her his mantle; thus, 
in the symbolic language of the times, asserting her humble 
right to the protection of a wife. Ruth is shown to us as one 
of those artless, confiding natures that see no evil in what is 
purely and rightly intended. It is enough for her, a stranger, 
to understand that her mother, an honored Judean matron, 
would command nothing which was not considered decorous 
and proper among her people. She obeys without a question. 
In the same spirit of sacred simplicity in which the action was 
performed it was received. There is a tender dignity and a 
chivalrous delicacy in the manner in which the bold yet 
humble advance is accepted. 

“And Boaz awoke, and, behold, a woman lay at his feet. 
And he said, Who art thou? And she said, I am Ruth, thy 
handmaid. Spread thy skirt over me, for thou art my near 
kinsman. And he said, Blessed art thou of the Lord, my 
daughter, for thou hast shown more kindness at the end than 
in the beginning, inasmuch as thou followedst not the young 
men, poor or rich. And now, my daughter, fear not; I will 
do for thee all that thou requirest, for all the city of my peo- 
ple doth know that thou art a virtuous woman.” 

The very crucial test of gentlemanly delicacy and honor is 
the manner in which it knows how to receive an ingenuous 
and simple-hearted act of confidence. As in the fields Boaz 
did not ostentatiously urge alms upon the timid maiden, but 


RUTH THE MOABITESS. 


suffered her to have the pleasure of gleaning for herself, so 
now he treats this act by which she throws herself upon his 
protection as an honor done to him, for which he is bound to 
be grateful. He hastens to assure her that he is her debtor 
for the preference she shows him. That courtesy and chivalric 
feeling for woman which was so strong a feature in the char- 
acter of Moses, and which is embodied in so many of his laws 
and institutes, comes out in this fine Hebrew gentleman as 
perfectly, but with more simplicity, than in the Sir Charles 
Grandison of the eighteenth century. And so, at last, the 
lovely stranger, Ruth the Moabitess, becomes the wife of the 
rich landed proprietor, with the universal consent of all the 
people. ‘And all the people that were in the gates and the 
elders said, We are witnesses. The Lord make this woman 
that is come into thy house like Rachel and like Leah, which 
two did build the house of Israel.” 

From this marriage of the chivalrous, pious old man with 
the devoted and loving Ruth the Moabitess, sprang an aus- 
picious lineage. The house of David, the holy maiden of 
Judza and her son, whom all nations call blessed, were the 
illustrious seed of this wedding. in the scene at the birth of 
the first son of Ruth, we have a fine picture of the manners of 
those days. ‘‘And the women said unto Naomi, Blessed be the 
Lord which hath not left thee this day without a kinsman, that 
his name may be famous in Israel. And he shall be unto thee 
a restorer of thy life and a nourisher of thy old age: for thy 
daughter-in-law, which loveth thee, and is better to thee than 
seven sons, hath borne him. And Naomi took the child and 
laid it in her bosom, and became nurse unto it. And the 
women her neighbors gave it a name, saying, There is a son 
born to Naomi, and they called his name Obed; he is the 
father of Jesse, the father of David.” 

In all this we see how strong is the impression which the 
loving nature of Ruth makes in the narrative. From the union 
of this woman so tender and true, and this man so gracious 
and noble and chivalric, comes the great heart-poet of the 
world. No other songs have been so dear to mankind, so 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


cherished in the heart of high and low, rich and poor, in 
every nation and language, as these Psalms of David. 
“Tt is that music to whose tone 
The common pulse of man keeps time, 


In cot or castle’s mirth or moan, 
In cold or fervid clime.” 


In the tender friendship of David for Jonathan, we see again 
the loving constancy of Ruth in a manly form, — the love be- 
tween soul and soul, which was “wonderful, passing the love 
of women.” In the ideal which we form of Mary, the mother 
of Jesus, lowly, modest, pious, constant, rich in the power of 
love and in a simple, trustful faith, we see the transmission of 
family traits through generations. Dante, in his ‘ Paradise,” 
places Ruth among the holy women who sit at the feet of the 
glorified Madonna. The Providence that called a Moabitish 
ancestress into that golden line whence should spring the 
Messiah was a sort of morning star of intimation that He 
should be of no limited nationality; that he was to be the 
Son of Man, the Lord and brother of all mankind. 


THE WITCH OF ENDOR. 


Nowe HAT was a witch, according to the law of Moses, and 
d 4} why was witchcraft a capital offense? A witch was 
the dark shadow of a prophetess. | 
' A prophetess was a holy woman drawing near to 
the spiritual world by means of faith and prayer, and thus in- 
spired by God with a knowledge beyond the ordinary power of 
mortals. Her prophecies and her guidance were all from the 
only true source of knowledge; the spirits that attended her 
were true and heavenly spirits, and she became a medium by 
whom the will of God and the perplexed path of duty were made 
plain to others. A witch, on the contrary, was one who sought 
knowledge of the future, not from the one supreme God, but 
through all those magical charms, incantations, and ceremonies 
by which the spirits of the dead were sought for interference in 
the affairs of men. The guilt and the folly of seeking these con- 
sisted in the fact that there was another and a legitimate supply 
for that craving of the human heart. 

Man is consciously weak, helpless, burdened with desires and 
fears which he knows not how to supply or allay. Moses dis- 
tinctly stated to the Jews that their Gop was “nigh unto them 
for aL they should call upon him for.” The examples of holy 
men and women in sacred history show that, even for private 
and personal griefs, and intimate sorrows and perplexities, there 
was immediate access to the gracious Jehovah, there were direct 
answers to prayer. Had Hannah, in her childless longings and 
misery, sought a woman who had a familiar spirit, she would 
have broken the law of the land, and committed an act of rebel- 
lion against her King and Father. But she went directly to 
God, and became a joyful mother. ; 

Besides the personal access of the individual by prayer, there 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


were always holy mediums raised up from time to time in the 
nation, who were lawful and appointed sources of counsel and 
aid. ‘There were always the prophet and prophetess, through 
whom there was even nearer access to the guardian God, and we 
repeatedly read of application made to these sources in case of 
sickness or sorrow or perplexity. The high-priest, by virtue 
of his office, was held to possess this power. Exactly what the 
Urim and Thummim were, the learned do not seem to agree; 
it is sufficient to know that they were in some way the instru- 
ments of a lawful mode appointed by God, through which ques- 
tions asked of the high-priest might be answered, and guidance 
given in perplexing cases. 

And now, on the other hand, as to the witch, and how her 
unlawful processes were carried on, we get more help from one 
vivid, graphic picture than by all the researches of archzeologists. 
We therefore give entire the singular and poetic story in the 
First Book of Samuel. 

‘Now Samuel was dead, and all. Israel had lamented him, and 
buried him in Ramah, even in his own city. And Saul had put 
~ away those that had familiar spirits, and the wizards, out of the 
land. And the Philistines gathered themselves together, and 
came and pitched in Shunem: and Saul gathered all Israel to- 
gether, and they pitched in Gilboa. And when Saul saw the 
host of the Philistines, he was afraid, and his heart greatly 
trembled. And when Saul inquired of the Lord, the Lord 
answered him not, neither by dreams, nor by Urim, nor by 
prophets. Then said Saul unto his servants, Seek me a woman 
that hath a familiar spirit, that I may go to her, and inquire of 
her. And his servants said to him, Behold, there is a woman that 
hath a familiar spirit at Endor. And Saul disguised himself, and 
put on other raiment, and he went, and two men with him, and 
they came to the woman by night: and he said, I pray thee, 
divine unto me by the familiar spirit, and bring me him up whom 
I shall name unto thee. And the woman said unto him, Behold, 
thou knowest what Saul hath done, how he hath cut off those 
that have familiar spirits, and the wizards, out of the land: where- — 
fore then layest thou a snare for my life, to cause me to die? 


THE WITCH OF HNDOR. 


And Saul sware to her by the Lord, saying, As the Lord liveth, 
there shall no punishment happen to thee for this thing. Then 
said the woman, Whom shall I bring up unto thee? And he 
said, Bring me up Samuel. And when the woman saw Samuel, 
she cried with a loud voice: and the woman spake to Saul, say- 
ing, Why hast thou deceived me? for thou art Saul. And the 
king said unto her, Be not afraid; for what sawest thou? And 
the woman said unto Saul, I saw gods ascending out of the earth. 
And he said unto her, What form is he of? And she said, An 
old man cometh up; and he is covered with a mantle. And Saul 
perceived that it was Samuel, and he stooped with his face to the 
ground, and bowed himself. And Samuel said to Saul, Why hast 
thou disquieted me, to brmg me up? And Saul answered, I am 
sore distressed; for the Philistines make war against me, and God 
is departed from me, and answereth me no more, neither by 
prophets, nor by dreams: therefore I have called thee, that thou 
mayest make known unto me what I shall do. ‘Then said Samuel, 
Wherefore then dost thou ask of me, seeing the Lord is departed 
from thee, and is become thine enemy? And the Lord hath done 
to him, as he spake by me: for the Lord hath rent the kingdom 
out of thine hand, and given it to thy neighbor, even to David: 
Because thou obeyedst not the voice of the Lord, nor executedst 
his fierce wrath upon Amalek, therefore hath the Lord done this 
thing unto thee this day. Moreover the Lord will also deliver 
Israel with thee into the hand of the Philistines: and to-morrow 
shalt thou and thy sons be with me: the Lord also shall deliver 
the host of Israel into the hand of the Philistines. Then Saul 
fell straightway all along on the earth, and was sore afraid, because 
of the words of Samuel: and there was no strength in him; for 
he had eaten no bread all the day, nor all the night. And the 
woman came unto Saul, and saw that he was sore troubled, and 
said unto him, Behold, thine handmaid hath obeyed thy voice, 
and I have put my life in my hand, and have hearkened unto thy 
words which thou spakest unto me: now therefore, I pray thee, 
hearken thou also unto the voice of thine handmaid, and let me 
set a morsel of bread before thee ; and eat, that thou mayest have 
strength, when thou goest on thy way. But he refused, and said, 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


I will not eat. But his servants, together with the woman, com- 
pelled him, and he hearkened unto their voice. So he arose from 
the earth, and sat upon the bed. And the woman had a fat calf 
in the house, and she hasted, and killed it, and took flour, and 
kneaded it, and did bake unleavened bread thereof. And she 
brought it before Saul, and before his servants ; and they did eat. 
Then they rose up, and went away that night.” 

We do not need to inquire what a witch was, or why she was 
forbidden, further than this story shows. She is placed here as 
exactly the contrary alternative to God, in the wants and sorrows 
of life. The whole tenor of instruction to the Jews was, that 
there was no Divine anger that might not be appeased and 
turned away by deep, heartfelt repentance and amendment. In 
the GREAT NAME revealed to Moses, the Jehovah declares himself 
“merciful and gracious, slow to anger, of great kindness, forgiv- 
ing iniquity, transgression, and sin,” —there is but a single 
clause added on the side of admonitory terror, — ‘‘ who will by 
no means clear the guilty.” A favorite mode in which the guar- 
dian God is represented as speaking is that he “‘ repenteth of the 
evil” he thought to do, in response to penitent prayer. 

Saul had broken with his God on the score of an intense self- 
will, and he did not repent. The prophet Samuel had announced 
wrath, and threatened final rejection, but no humiliation and no 
penitence followed. In this mood of mind, when his fear came — 
as desolation, all the avenues of knowledge or aid which belonged 
to God’s children were closed upon him, and he voluntarily put 
himself in the hands of those powers which were his declared 
enemies. 

The scene as given is so exactly like what is occurring in our 
day, like incidents that so many among us have the best reason 
for knowing to be objectively facts of daily occurrence, that there 
is no reason to encumber it with notes and comments as to the 
probability of the account. The woman was a medium who had 
the power of calling up the spirits of the dead at the desire of 
those who came to her. She is not represented at all as a witch 
after the Shakespearean style. There is no “ eye of newt and toe 
of frog,” no caldron or grimaces to appall. From all that appears, 


THE WITCH OF ENDOR. 


she was a soft-hearted, kindly, cowardly creature, turning a penny 
as she could, in a way forbidden by the laws of the land; quite 
ready to make up by artifice for any lack of reality ; who cast her 
line into the infinite shadows, and was somewhat appalled by 
what it brought up. 

There is a tone of reproof in the voice of the departed friend: 
“Why hast thou disquieted me, to bring me up?” And when 
Saul says, “God hath forsaken us, and will not answer,” the 
reproving shade replies, ‘‘ Wherefore come to me, seeing God 
hath become thine enemy?” In all this is the voice of the true 
and loyal prophet, who from a child had sought God, and God 
alone, in every emergency, and ever found him true and faithful. 

This story has its parallel in our days. In our times there is a 
God and Father always nigh to those who diligently seek him. 
There is communion with spirits through Jesus, the great High- 
Priest. There are promises of guidance in difficulties and sup- 
port under trials to all who come to God by Him. 

In our days, too, there are those who propose, for the relief of 
human perplexities and the balm for human sorrows, a recourse 
to those who have familiar spirits, and profess to call back to us 
those who are at rest with God. 

Now, while there is no objection to a strict philosophical inves- 
tigation and analysis and record of these phenomena considered 
as psychological facts, while, in fact, such investigation is loudly 
called for as the best remedy for superstition, there is great dan- 
ger to the mind and moral sense in seeking them as guides m our 
perplexities or comforters in our sorrows. And the danger is just 
this, that they take the place of that communion with God and 
that filial intercourse with him which is alone the true source 
of light and comfort. Most especially, to those whose souls are 
weakened by the anguish of some great bereavement, is the 
seeking of those that have familiar spirits to be dreaded. Who 
could REE to expose to the eye of a paid medium the sanctuary 
of our most sacred love and sorrow? and how fearful is the 
thought that some wandering spirit, in the voice and with the 
tone “and manner of those dearest to us, may lead us aS to 


trust in those who are not God! 
15 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


The most dangerous feature we know of in these professed 
spirit-messages is their constant tendency to place themselves 
before our minds as our refuge and confidence rather than God. 
“Seek us, trust us, believe in us, rely on us,” — such is always 
the voice that comes from them. 

In Isaiah viii. 19, the prophet describes a time of great affliction 
and sorrow coming upon the Jews, when they would be driven 
to seek supernatural aid. He says: ‘“ And when they shall say 
unto you, Seek unto them that have familiar spirits, and to wizards 
that peep and mutter; should not a nation seek unto their God? 
should the living seek unto the dead? To the law, and to the 
testimony; if they speak not according to this word, there is no 
light in them.” The prophet goes on to say that those who 
thus turn from God to these sources of comfort ‘shall be 
hardly bestead and hungry, and shall fret themselves.” 

All our observation of those who have sought to these sources 
of comfort has been that they fall into just this restless hunger 
of mind, an appetite forever growing and never satisfied; and as 
their steps go farther and farther from the true source of all com- 
fort, the hunger and thirst increase. How much more beautiful, 
safe, and sure that good old way of trust in God! The writer 
has had a somewhat large observation of the very best and most 
remarkable phenomena of that which is claimed to be spirit 
communion; she does not doubt the reality of many very re- — 
markable appearances and occurrences; she has only respectful 
and tender sympathy for those whose heart-sorrows they have 
consoled. But when this way of guidance and consolation is put 
in the place of that direct filial access to God through Jesus 
which the Bible reveals, it must be looked upon as the most illu- 
sive and insidious of dangers. The phenomena, whatever they 
are, belong to forces too little understood, to laws too much un- 
known, that we should trust ourselves to them in the most 
delicate, critical, and sacred wants of our life. 

Better than all is the way spoken of by Jesus when he, the 
Comforter, Guide, Teacher, Friend, will manifest himself to the 
faithful soul as he does not to the world: ‘If a man love me, 
he will keep my words, and my Father will love him, and we 
will come and make our abode with him.” 


QUEEN ESTHER. 


ave qj, HE story of Esther belongs to that dark period in Jew- 
ish history when the national institutions were to all 
human view destroyed. The Jews were scattered up 
and down through the provinces captives and slaves, 
with no rights but what their conquerors might choose to give 
them. Without a temple, without an altar, without a priesthood, 
they could only cling to their religion as a memory of the past, 
and with some dim hopes for the future. In this depressed state, 
there was a conspiracy, armed by the regal power, to exterminate 
the whole race, and this terrible danger was averted by the beau- 
ty and grace, the courage and prudence, of one woman. The 
portrait of this heroine comes to us in a flush of Oriental splen- 
dor. Her story reads like a romance, yet her memory, in our 
very prosaic days, is embalmed as a reality, by a yearly festival 
devoted to it. Every year the festival of Purim in every land 
and country whither the Jews are scattered, reminds the world 
that the romance has been a reality, and the woman whose 
beauty and fascination were the moving power in it was no 
creation of fancy. 

The style of the book of Esther is peculiar. It has been held 
by learned Jews to be a compilation made by Mordecai from the 
Persian annals. The name of Jehovah nowhere occurs in it, 
although frequent mention is made of fasting and prayer. The 
king Ahasuerus is supposed by the best informed to be the 
Xerxes of Herodotus, and the time of the story previous to the 
celebrated expedition of that monarch against Greece. The hun- 
dred and twenty-seven provinces over which he reigned are pic- 
turesquely set forth by Herodotus in his celebrated description 
of the marshaling of this great army. The vanity, ostentation, 
childish passionateness, and disregard of human life ascribed to 


C4 
™ 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


the king in this story are strikingly like other incidents related 
by Herodotus. 

When a father came to him imploring that he would spare one 
of his sons from going to the war, Xerxes immediately com- 
manded the young man to be slain and divided, and the 
wretched father was obliged to march between the mangled 
remains. This was to illustrate forcibly that no human being 
had any rights but the king, and that it was presumptuous 
even to wish to retain anything from his service. 

The armies of Xerxes were not led to battle by leaders in front, 
but driven from behind with whips like cattle. When the king’s 
bridge of boats across the Hellespont was destroyed by a storm, 
he fell into a fury, and ordered the sea to be chastised with 
stripes, and fetters to be thrown into it, with the admonition, ‘ O 
thou salt and bitter water, it is thus that thy master chastises thy 
insolence!” We have the picture, in Herodotus, of the king 
seated at ease on his royal throne, on an eminence, beholding 
the various ranks of his army as they were driven like so many 
bullocks into battle. When the battle went against him, he 
would leap from his throne in furies of impotent rage. 

It is at the court of this monarch, proud, vain, passionate, and 
ostentatious, that the story opens, with a sort of dazzle of East- 
ern splendor. ‘‘ Now it came to pass, in the days of Ahasuerus, 
which reigned from India even unto Ethiopia, over an hundred 
and twenty and seven provinces, that in those days, when King 
Ahasuerus sat on the throne of his kingdom, which was in 
Shushan the palace, in the third year of his reign, he made a 
feast unto all his princes and his servants; the powers of Persia 
and Media, the nobles and princes of the provinces, being before 
him: when he showed them the riches of his glorious kingdom 
and the honor of his excellent majesty.” | 

On the last seven days of the feast the royal palace is thrown 
open to the populace of Shushan. The writer goes on to am- 
plify and give particulars: In the courts of the king’s garden 
were couches of gold and silver, on a pavement of colored 
marbles, with hangings of white, green, and blue, fastened by 
cords of purple and fine linen to silver rings in marble pillars. 


QOCEEN ESTHER. 


There was wine poured forth in costly goblets of very quaint 
and rare device. Vashti, the queen, at the same time made a 
feast to all the women in the royal house which belonged to the 
king. In the year 1819 Sir Robert Ker Porter visited and 
explored the ruins of this city of Shushan. His travels were 
printed for private circulation, and are rare and costly. They 
contain elegant drawings and restorations of the palace at Per- 
sepolis which would well illustrate this story, and give an idea 
of the architectural splendor of the scenery of the drama here 
presented. 

Of Shushan itself, — otherwise Susa,—he gives only one or 
two drawings of fragmentary ruins. The ‘satyrs have long 
danced and the bitterns cried” in these halls then so gay and 
glorious, though little did the king then dream of that. 

At the close of the long revel, when the king was inflated to 
the very ultimatum of ostentatious vanity, he resolves, as a last 
slorification of self, to exhibit the unveiled beauty of his Queen 
Vashti to all the princes and lords of his empire. 

Now, if we consider the abject condition of all men in that day 
before the king, we shall stand amazed that there was a woman 
found at the head of the Persian empire that dared to disobey the 
command even of a drunken monarch. It is true that the thing 
required was, according to Oriental customs, an indecency as 
ereat as if a modern husband should propose to his wife to 
exhibit her naked person. Vashti was reduced to the place 
where a woman deliberately chooses death before dishonor. The 
naive account of the counsel of the king and princes about this 
first stand for woman’s rights — their fear that the example might 
infect other wives with a like spirit, and weaken the authority of 
husbands ™, certainly a most delightful specimen of ancient 
simplicity. It shows us that the male sex, with all their force of 
physical: mastery, hold everywhere, even in the undeveloped 
states of civilization, an almost even-handed conflict with those 
subtler and more ethereal forces which are ever at the disposal 
of women. It appears that the chief councilors and mighty 
men of Persia could scarcely hold their own with their wives, 
and felt as if the least toleration would set them all out into open 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


rebellion. So Vashti is deposed, nem. con., by the concurrent 
voice of all the princes of the Medes and Persians. 

Then comes the account of the steps taken to secure another 
queen. All the beautiful virgins through all the hundred and 
twenty-seven provinces are caught, caged, and sent traveling to- 
wards Shushan, and delivered over to the keeping of the chief 
eunuch, like so many birds and butterflies, waiting their turn to 
be sent in to the king. Among them all a Jewish maiden, of an 
enslaved, oppressed race, is the favored one. Before all the beau- 
ties of the provinces Esther is preferred, and the crown royal is 
set upon her head. What charmed about Esther was, perhaps, the 
reflection of a soul from her beautiful face. Every one of the best 
class of Jewish women felt secretly exalted by her conception of 
the dignity of her nation as chosen by the one true God, and 
destined to bring into the world the great prince and Messiah 
who should reign over the earth. These religious ideas inspired 
in them a lofty and heroic cast of mind that even captivity could 
not subdue. At all events there was something about Esther that 
gave her a power to charm and fix the passions of this voluptuous 
and ostentatious monarch. Esther is the adopted daughter of 
her kinsman Mordecai, and the narrative says that ‘ Esther did 
the commandment of Mordecai, like as when she was brought 
up with him.” At his command she forbears to declare her 
nationality and lineage, and Mordecai refrains from any con- 
nection with her that would compromise her as related to an 
obscure captive, though the story says he walked every day 
before the court of the woman’s house to know-how Esther did, 
and what should become of her. 

In these walks around the palace he overhears a conspiracy of 
two chamberlains to murder the king, and acquaints Esther of the 
danger. ‘The conspirators are executed, and the record passes 
into the Persian annals with the name of Mordecai the Jew, but 
no particular honor or reward is accorded to him at that time. 
Meanwhile, a foreign adventurer named Haman rises suddenly to 
influence and power, and becomes prime minister to the king. 
This story is a sort of door, opening into the interior of a 
despotic court, showing the strange and sudden reverses of for- 


QUEEN ESTHER. 


tune which attended that phase of human existence. Haman, 
inflated with self-consequence, as upstart adventurers generally 
are, is enraged at Mordecai for neglecting to prostrate himself 
before him as the other hangers-on of the court do. Safe in his 
near relationship to the queen, Mordecai appears to have felt 
himself free to indulge in the expensive and dangerous luxury 
of quiet contempt for the all-powerful favorite of the king. 

It is most astounding next to read how Haman, having re- 
solved to take vengeance on Mordecai by exterminating his 
whole nation, thus glibly and easily wins over the king to 
his scheme. ‘There is a nation,” he says, “scattered abroad 
throughout all the provinces of the king’s kingdom, and their 
laws are diverse from all people, neither keep they the king’s 
laws, therefore it is not for the king’s profit to suffer them.” 
“Tf it please the king let it be written that they may be de- 
stroyed, and I will pay ten thousand talents of silver to the 
hands of them that have the charge of the business, to bring it 
into the king’s treasury.” 

It is fashionable in our times to speak of the contempt and dis- 
regard shown to women in this period of the world among Orien- 
tal races, but this one incident shows that women were held no 
cheaper than men. Human beings were cheap. ‘The massacre of 
hundreds of thousands was negotiated in an easy, off-hand way, 
just as a gardener ordains exterminating sulphur for the green 
bugs on his plants. The king answered to Haman, “ The silver 
is given thee, and the people also, to do as seemeth to thee good.” 

Then, says the story, ‘the king’s scribes were called on the 
thirteenth day of the first month, and there was written according 
to all that Haman had commanded, and the letters were sent by 
post into all the provinces, to destroy and to kill and cause to 
perish all Jews, both old and young, little children and women, 
in one day, of the twelfth month, which is the month Adar, to 
take the spoil of them for a prey. The posts went out, being 
hastened by the king’s commandment, and the king and Haman 
sat down to drink, but the city of Shushan was perplexed.” And when 
Mordecai heard this he rent his clothes and put on sackcloth with 
ashes, and went into the midst of the city, and came even before 


WOMAN IN SACKED HISTORY. 


the king’s gate, for none might enter into the king’s gate clothed 
in sackcloth. The Oriental monarch was supposed to dwell in 
eternal bliss and joyfulness : no sight or sound of human suffering 
or weakness or pain must disturb the tranquility of his court; he 
must not even suspect the existence of such a thing as sorrow. 

Far in the luxurious repose of the women’s apartments, sunk 
upon embroidered cushions, listening to the warbling of birds and 
the plash of fountains, Eisther the queen knew nothing of the 
decree that had gone forth against her people. The report was 
brought her by her chamberlain that her kinsman was in sack- 
cloth, and she sent to take it away and clothe him with costly 
garments, but he refused the attention and persisted in his mourn- 
ing. Then the queen sent her chief chamberlain to inquire what 
was the cause of his distress, and Mordecai sent a copy of the de- 
cree, with a full account of how and by whom it had been ob- 
tained, and charging her to go and make supplication to the king 
for her people. Esther returned answer: “ All the king’s servants 
do know that whosoever, man or woman, shall come in to the king 
in the inner court, who is not called, there is one law to put them 
to death, except those to whom the king shall hold out the golden 
scepter that he may live, but I’ have not been called to appear 
before the king for thirty days.” 

We have here the first thoughts of a woman naturally humble 
and timid, knowing herself one of the outlawed race, and fearing, » 
from the long silence of the king, that his heart may have been 
set against her by the enemies of her people. Mordecai sent in 
reply to this a sterner message; ‘Think not with thyself that 
thou shalt escape in the king’s house more than all the Jews. For 
if thou altogether holdest thy peace at this time, then shall there 
enlargement and deliverance arise to the Jews from another quar- 
ter, but thou and thy father’s house shall be cut off; and who 
knoweth whether thou art come to the kingdom for such a time 
as this?” And Esther sends this reply: ‘‘ Go, gather together all 
the Jews that are in Shushan, and fast ye for me; neither eat nor 
drink for three days, night or day; and I and my maidens will 
fast likewise. And so I will go in unto the king, which is not 
according to law; and if I perish, I perish.” 


QUEEN HSTHER. 


There are certain apochryphal additions to the book of Esther, 
which are supposed to be the efforts of some romancer in en- 
larging upon a historic theme. In it is given at length a prayer 
of Mordecai in this distress, and a detailed account of the visit 
of Esther to the king. The writer says, that, though she carried 
a smiling face, ‘her heart was in anguish for fear,” and she fell 
fainting upon the shoulder of her maid. Our own account is 
briefer, and relates simply how the king saw Esther the queen 
standing in the court, and she obtained favor in his eyes, and he 
held out the golden scepter, and said to her, “‘ What wilt thou, 
Queen Esther, what is thy request? and it shall be given thee, 
even to half of the kingdom.” Too prudent to enter at once into 
a discussion of the grand subject, Esther seeks an occasion to 
study the king and Haman together more nearly, and her request 
is only that the king and Haman would come that day to a pri- 
vate banquet in the qtieen’s apartments. It was done, and the 
king and Haman both came. 

At the banquet her fascinations again draw from the king the 
permission to make known any request of her heart, and it shall 
be given, even to half of his kingdom. Still delaying the final 
issue, Esther asks that both the king and his minister may come to 
a second banquet on the morrow. Haman appears to have been 
excessively flattered at this attention from the queen, of whose 
nationality he was profoundly ignorant; but as he passed by and 
saw Mordecai in his old seat in the king’s gate, “that he stood 
not up neither moved for him,” he was full of indignation. He 
goes home to his domestic circle, and amplifies the account of his 
court successes and glories, and that even the queen has distin- 
guished him with an invitation which was shared by no one but 
the king. Yet, he says, in the end, all this availeth me nothing, 
so long as I see Mordecai the Jew sitting in the king’s gate. 
His wife is fruitful in resources. ‘ Erect a gibbet,” she says, 
‘and to-morrow speak to the king, and have Mordecai hanged, 
and go thou merrily to the banquet.” And the thing pleased 
Haman, and he caused the gallows to be made. 

On that night the king could not sleep, and calls an attendant, 
by way of opiate, to read the prosy and verbose records of his 

16 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


kingdom, — probably having often found this a sovereign expedi- 
ent for inducing drowsiness. Then, by accident, his ear catches 
the account of the conspiracy which had been averted by Mor- 
decai. ‘ What honor hath been shown this man?” he inquires ; 
and his servants answered, There is nothing done for him. The 
king’s mind runs upon the subject, and early in the morning, per- 
ceiving Haman standing as an applicant in the outer court, he 
calls to have him admitted. Haman came, with his mind full of 
the gallows and Mordecai. The king’s mind was full, also, of 
Mordecai, and he had the advantage of the right of speaking first. 
In the enigmatic style sometimes employed by Oriental monarchs, 
he inquires, ‘‘ What shall be done with the man whom the king 
delighteth to honor?” Haman, thinking this the preface to some 
new honor to himself, proposes a scheme. The man whom the 
king delights to honor shall be clothed in the king’s royal robes, 
wear the king’s crown, be mounted on the king’s horse, and thus 
be led through the streets by one of the king’s chief councilors, 
proclaiming, ‘This is the man whom the king delighteth to honor.” 
“Then said the king: Make haste, and do even so as thou hast 
said unto Mordecai the Jew that sitteth in the king’s gate. Let 
nothing fail of all that thou hast spoken.” And Haman, without 
daring to remonstrate, goes forth and fulfills the king’s command, 
with what grace and willingness may be imagined. 

It is evident from the narrative that the king had not even 
taken the trouble to inquire the name of the people he had given 
up to extermination any more than he had troubled himself to re- 
ward the man who had saved his life. In both cases he goes on 
blindly, and is indebted to mere chance for his discoveries. We 
see in all this the same passionate, childish nature that is recorded 
of Xerxes by Herodotus when he scourged the sea for destroying 
his bridge of boats. When Haman comes back to his house after 
his humiliating public exposure, his wife comforts him after a 
fashion that has not passed out of use with her. ‘If that Mor- 
decai,” she says, ‘‘is of the seed of the Jews before whom thou 
hast begun to fall, thou shalt not prevail against him, but shall 
surely fall before him.” 

And now Haman and the king and Esther are once more in a 


QUHEN HSTHER. 


secluded apartment, banqueting together. Again the king says 
to her,: ‘‘ What is thy request, Esther?” The hour of full dis- 
covery is now come. Esther answers: “If I have found favor 
in thy sight, O king, and if it please the king, let my life be given 
me at my petition, and my people at my request. lor we are 
sold, I and my people, to be slain and to perish. If we had only 
been sold to slavery, I had held my tongue.” Then the king 
breaks forth, ‘‘ Who is he, and where is he that durst presume in 
his heart to do so?” And Esther answered, “‘'The adversary and 
enemy @s this wicked Haman!” 'Then Haman was afraid before 
the king and queen, and he had the best reason to be so. The 
king, like an angry lion, rose up in a fury and rushed out into 
the gardens. Probably at this moment he perceived the net into 
which he had been drawn by his favorite. He has sent orders for 
the destruction of this people, to whom his wife belongs, and for 
whom she intercedes. Of course he never thinks of blaming him- 
self. ‘The use of prime ministers was as well understood in those 
days as now, and Haman must take the consequences as soon as 
the king can get voice to speak it. Haman, white with abject 
terror, falls fainting at the feet of Esther upon the couch where 
she rests, and as the king comes raging back from the gardens he 
sees him there. ‘ What! will he force our queen also in our very 
presence?” he says. And as the word went out of the king’s 
mouth, they covered Haman’s face. All is over with him, and an 
alert attendant says: “‘ Behold the gallows, fifty cubits high, that 
he made to hang Mordecai, the saviour of ine king’s life.” Then 
said the king, ‘‘ Hang him thereon.” 

Thus dramatically comes the story to a crisis. Mordecai be- 
comes prime minister. The message of the king goes everywhere, 
empowering the Jews to stand for their life, and all the governors 
of provinces to protect them. And so it ends in leaving the na- 
tion powerful in all lands, under the protection of a queen and 
prime minister of their own nation. 

The book of Esther was forthwith written and sent to the Jews 
in all countries of the earth, as a means of establishing a yearly 
commemorative festival called Purim, from the word “ Pur,” 
or “The lot.” The festival was appointed, we are told, by the 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


joint authority of Mordecai the Jew and Esther the queen. And 
to this day we Gentiles in New York or Boston, at the time of 
Purim, may go into the synagogue and hear this book of Esther 
chanted in the Hebrew, and hear the hearty curses which are 
heaped, with thumps of hammers and of fists, upon the heads of 
Haman and his sons whenever their names occur in the story, — 
a strange fragment of ancient tradition floated down to our mod- 
ern times. ‘The palace of Shushan, with its hangings of green 
and blue and purple, its silver couches, its stir and hum of busy 
life, is now a moldering ruin; but the fair woman that once 
trod its halls is remembered and honored in a nation’s heart. It 
is a curious fact that the romantic history of Esther has twice had 
its parallel since the Christian era, as the following incident, from 
Schudt’s ‘‘ Memorabilia of the Jews,” * witnesses. In this rare 
and curious work —4th book, 13th chapter —he says: ‘Casi- 
mir the Great, of Poland, in 1431, fell in love with a beautiful 
Jewess named Esther, whom he married and raised to the throne 
of Poland. He had by her two sons and several daughters. His 
love for her was so great that he allowed the daughters to be 
brought up in their mother’s religion.” Also it is related that 
Alphonso VIIL, king of Spain, took to himself a beautiful 
Jewess as a wife. On account of her he gave such privileges 
to the Jews that she became an object of jealousy to the nobles, | 
and was assassinated 

The book of Esther fills an important place in the sacred 
canon, as showing the Divine care and protection extended over 
the sacred race in the period of their deepest depression. The 
beauty and grace of a woman were the means of preserving the 
seed from which the great Son of Man and desire of all nations 
should come. Esther held in her fair hand the golden chain at 
the end of which we see the Mother of Jesus. The ‘“ Prayer of 
Esther” is a composition ascribed to her, and still in honored use 
among the solemn services of the synagogue. 


* Jiidische Merkwiirdigkeiten. Frankfort and Leipsic, 1714. 


JUDITH THE DELIVERER. 


O female type of character has given more brilliant 

inspiration to the artist or been made more glowingly 
\]) alive on canvas than Judith. Her story, however, is 
** set down by competent scholars as a work of fiction. 
The incidents recorded in it have so many anachronisms as to 
time and place, the historical characters introduced are in combi- 
nations and relations so interfering with authentic history, that 
such authorities as Professor Winer,* of Leipsic, and others, do 
not hesitate to assign it to the realm of romance. ‘This Apocry- 
phal book is, in fact, one of the few sparse blossoms of eesthetie 
literature among the Jewish nation. It is a story ages before the 
time of the tales of the Decameron, but as purely a romance. 
Considered in this light, it is nobly done and of remarkable 
beauty. The character of Judith is a striking and picturesque 
creation, of which any modern artist might be proud. | It illus- 
trates quite as powerfully as a true story the lofty and heroic 
type of womanhood which was the result of the Mosaic institu- 
tions, and the reverence in which such women were held by the 
highest authorities of the nation. 

The author begins with the account of a destructive and 
terrible war which is being waged on the Jewish nation for 
refusing to serve in the armies of one Nabuchodonosor, king of 
Assyria, in an attack on the king of the Medes and Persians. 
All the names of this so-called war, and all the events as nar- 
rated, are out of joint with received history, and clearly as much 
creations of the writer’s fancy as the Arabian Nights. It is stated 
that the Jews had just returned from the Babylonian captivity, 
and brought back their sacred vessels, and restored their temple 


* Winer’s Bible Dictionary, art. Judith. 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


worship after the long defilement of heathen servitude. But it is 
a matter of undisputed history that Nabuchodonosor was the king 
who carried the nation into captivity, and no other monarch of 
the name is known to history who performed deeds at all like 
those here narrated. 

The story goes on to state how, to punish the Jews for not 
becoming his soldiers in the war, this king sent his chief com- 
mander, Holofernes, to carry destruction over their country. 
The mighty army of this general, and its ravages over the 
surrounding country, are set forth with an Oriental luxury of 
amplification. They come at last and straitly besiege the city 
of Bethulia. Whether this is a fictitious name for a real city, or 
whether it is a supposititious city, the creation of the author’s 
imagination, critics are not fully decided; the story is just as 
pretty on one hypothesis as the other. The water being cut off, 
the people, suffering and dying of thirst, beset the chief-priests 
and elders to surrender the city to save their lives. Ozias, the 
chief ruler, temporizes, recommends five days of prayer; if 
before that time the God of Israel does not interpose, he prom- 
ises to surrender. 

And now the romance puts its heroine on the stage. After 
tracing her family and descent, it introduces her in these quaint 
words: ‘‘Now Judith was a widow in her house three years 
and four months. And she made her tent on the top of the 
house, put on sackcloth, and wore her widow’s apparel; and 
she fasted all the days of her widowhood, save the eves of 
the Sabbaths, the Sabbaths, and the new moons and solemn 
feast-days of Israel. She was also of goodly countenance, and 
beautiful to behold, and her husband, Manasses, had left her gold 
and silver, and man-servants and maid-servants, and cattle, and 
lands; and she remained upon them. And there was none gave 
her an ill word, for she feared God greatly.” 

It is a striking exemplification of the elevated position which 
women held in the Jewish nation that a romance writer should 
introduce the incident that follows. Judith, hearing of the prom- 
ise of the chief-ruler to surrender the city, sends her maid to call 
the governor and the chief men of the city, and they came unto 


JUDITH THE DELIVERER. 


her. And she said: “‘ Hear now, O ye governors of the inhab- 
itants of Bethulia, for the words that you have spoken are not 
right touching this oath, that you have promised to deliver the 
city to our enemies, unless within these days the Lord turn and 
help you. And now, who are ye that have tempted God this 
day, to stand in the stead of God to the children of men?” 

She goes on to tell them that they have no right to say that 
unless God interfere for them before a certain time they will give 
up a sacred charge which has been entrusted to them to main- 
tain; but it is rather their duty to stand at their posts and defend 
their city, without making conditions with him as to when or 
how he should help them. She says to them: ‘And now, try 
the Lord Almighty, and ye shall never know anything. For ye 
cannot find the depth of the heart of a man, neither can ye per- 
ceive what he thinketh; how, then, can ye search out God, that 
hath made all things, and comprehend his purposes? Nay, my 
brethren, provoke not the Lord our God to anger; for if he will 
not help within five days, he hath power to help us when he will, 
even every day. Do not bind the counsel of the Lord, for God 
is not a man that he may be threatened. Therefore, let us wait 
for salvation from him, and call upon him, and he will hear, if it 
please him.” 

She then shows them the disgrace and dishonor which will 
come upon them if they betray their trust, and they allow the 
sacred inheritance to be defiled and destroyed, and ends with a 
heroic exhortation: ‘‘ Now, therefore, O brethren, let us show an 
example to our brethren, because their hearts depend on us, 
and the sanctuary and the house and the altar rest on us.” 

The governor and elders receive this message with respectful 
deference, apologize for yielding to the urgency of the people, 
who were mad with the sufferings of thirst, and compelled them 
to make this promise, and adds: ‘ Therefore, pray thou for us, 
for thou art a goodly woman, and the Lord will send us rain, and 
fill our cisterns that we thirst no more.” At this moment Judith 
receives a sudden flash of heroic inspiration, and announces to 
them, that, if they will send her forth without the city that night, 
the Lord will visit Israel by her hand. She adds that they must 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


not inquire further of her purpose, until the design she has in 
view be finished. The magistrates, confiding implicitly in her, 
agree to forward her plan blindly. 

The story now introduces us to the private oratory, where 
Judith pours out her heart before God. So says the narrative: 
“Then Judith fell on her face, and put ashes on her head, and 
uncovered the sackcloth wherewith she was clothed, and about 
the time that the incense of that evening was offered in Jeru- 
salem in the house of the Lord, Judith cried with a loud voice 
to the Lord.” | 

The prayer of Judith is eloquent in its fervent simplicity, 
and breathes that intense confidence in God as the refuge 
of the helpless, which is characteristic of Jewish literature. 
“Behold,” she says, ‘the Assyrians are multiplied in their 
power, and are exalted with horse and man; they glory in the 
strength of their footmen; they trust in shield and spear and 
bow, and know not that thou art the Lord that breakest battles. 
The Lord is thy name. Throw down their strength in thy 
power, and bring down their force in thy wrath, for they have 
purposed to defile thy sanctuary, and to pollute the tabernacle 
where thy glorious name resteth, and to cast down with sword 
the home of thy altar. Behold their pride. Send thy wrath 
upon their heads, and give unto me, which am a widow, the 
power that I have conceived. For thy power standeth not in 
multitude, nor thy might in strong men; for thou art the God of 
the afflicted, thou art an helper of the oppressed, an upholder 
of the weak, a protector of the forlorn, a saviour of them that 
are without hope. I pray thee, I pray thee, O God of my 
father, King of every creature! hear my prayer, and make 
my speech and deceit to be their wound and stripe, who have 
purposed cruel things against thy covenant, and thy hallowed 
house, and against the house of the possession of thy children.” 

When she had thus prayed, the story goes on to say she called 
her maid, and, laying aside the garments of her widowhood, 
dressed herself in the utmost splendor, adorning herself with 
jewels, and practicing every art of the toilet to set off her 
beauty. Thus attired, she with her maid went forth from the 


JUDITH THE DELIVERER. 


city towards the Assyrian army, meaning to be taken prisoner. 
As she designed, she was met by the outguards of the army, and 
carried at once to the tent of their general, professing that she 
had come to show him a way whereby he could go in and win 
all the hill country without loss of a man. The sensation pro- 
duced by her entrance into the camp is well given: “Then there 
was a concourse through all the camp, for her coming was noised 
among the tents, and they came about her as she stood waiting 
without the tent of Holofernes; and they wondered at her 
beauty, and admired the children of Israel because of her, and 
every one said to his neighbors, Who would despise this people 
that have among them such women?” 

The story next gives the scene where Holofernes, dazzled by 
her beauty and enchanted by her manners, becomes entirely 
subject to her will, receives and entertains her as a sovereign 
princess. She easily persuades him to believe the story she 
tells him. This people, she says, are under the protection of 
their God so long as they do not violate the rules of their re- 
ligion, but, under the pressure of famine, they are about to 
eat of forbidden articles and to consume the sacred offerings 
due to the temple. Then their God will turn against them and 
deliver them into his hands. She will remain with him, and go 
forth from time to time; and when the sacrilege is accomplished, 
she will let him know that the hour to fall upon them is come. 

So Judith is installed in state and all honor near the court of 
the commander, and enjoys to the full the right to exercise the 
rites of her national religion, — nay, the infatuated Holofernes 
goes so far as to promise her that, in the event of her succeeding 
in her promises, he will himself adopt the God of Israel for his 
God. After a day or two spent in this way, in which she goes 
forth every night for prayer and ablutions at the fountain, there 
comes the attempt to draw her into the harem of the general. 
Holofernes, in conference with Bagoas, the chief of his eunuchs, 
seems to think that the beautiful Judzan woman would laugh 
him to scorn if he suffered such an opportunity to pass unim- 
proved. Accordingly a private banquet is arranged, and the 


chief of the eunuchs carries the invitation in true Oriental style, 
17 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


as follows: ‘ Let not this fair damsel fear to come unto my lord, 
and to be honored in his presence, and to drink wine and be 
merry, and to be made this day as one of the Assyrians that 
serve in the house of Nabuchodonosor.” Judith graciously 
accepts the invitation, decks herself with all her jewelry, and 
comes to the banquet and ravishes the heart of the commandant 
with her smiles. Excited and flattered, he drinks, it is said, 
more wine than ever he drunk before; so that, at the close of 
the feast, when the servants departed and Judith was left alone 
in the tent with him, he was lying dead drunk with wine on the 
cushions of his divan. 

The rest is told in the story: “Then all went out and there 
was none left in the bedchamber, neither little nor great. Then 
Judith, standing by the bed, said in her heart, O Lord God of all 
power, look, at this present, on the work of my hands for the 
exaltation of Jerusalem. For now is the time to help thy inheri- 
tance and to execute my enterprise to the destruction of the ene- 
mies that are risen up against us. ‘Then came she to the pillow 
of the couch, and took down the fauchion from thence, and ap- 
proached his bed, and took hold of the hair of his head, and said, 
Strengthen me, O Lord God of Israel, this day, and she smote 
twice upon his neck with all her might, and she took away his 
head from him and went forth.” 

She returns to the city in the dim gray of the morning, bear- 
ing her trophy and the canopy and hangings of the bed whereon 
the enemy lay: ‘Then called Judith afar off to the watchmen, 
Open now the gates, for God, even our God, is with us to show 
his power yet in Israel and his strength against the enemy.” A 
hasty midnight summons brings together the elders of the city. 
A fire is kindled, and they gather round her, as, radiant with tri- 
umphant excitement, she breaks forth in triumph: ‘“ Praise, 
praise, praise God, praise God, I say, for he has not taken away 
his mercy from the house of Israel, but hath destroyed the 
enemy by my hand this night.” And she took the head out of 
the bag and showed it to them, and said: ‘ Behold the head of 
Holofernes, the chief captain of the army of Assur, and behold 
the canopy where he did lie in his drunkenness, and the Lord 


JUDITH THE DELIVERER. 


hath smitten him by the hand of a woman. As the Lord liveth, 
who hath kept me in my way that I went, my countenance hath 
deceived him to his destruction, yet he hath not committed sin 
with me to defile and shame me.” 

Then Ozias said, ‘‘O daughter, blessed art thou among all 
the women of the earth, and blessed be the Lord God which 
created the heavens and the earth, which hath directed thee to 
the cutting off of the head of our chief enemy. For this thy 
confidence shall not depart from the hearts of men which re- 
member the power of God forever. And God turn these things 
for a perpetual praise, because thou hast not spared thy life for 
the affliction of our nation, but hast avenged our ruin, walking 
in a straight way before our God. And all the people said, 
Amen, so be it.” 

The sequel of the story is, that the inspired prophetess directs 
her citizens to rush down upon the army in the first confusion of 
the loss of its general; and, this advice being followed, a gen- 
eral panic and rout of the hostile army follows, and the whole 
camp is taken and spoiled. 

The story ends with a solemn procession of thanksgiving and 
worship, the men wreathed with flowers around their armor, and 
headed by Judith crowned with a garland of olive leaves, and 
leading forth a solemn rhythmic dance while she sings a hymn 
of victory. This song of Judith, evidently modeled on the vic- 
torious anthem of Deborah under the same circumstances, is less 
vigorous and fiery, but more polished and finished. Had it stood 
alone, it had been thought an unrivalled composition of its kind. 
The animus of it is, in some respects, the same with that of the 
song of Hannah, —it exults in the might of God as the protector 
of the weak and helpless. There is an intensely feminine exulta- 
tion in the consciousness that she, though weak as a woman, has 
been made the means of overcoming this strength : — 


“ Assur came from the mountains of the north, 
He came with ten thousands of armies. 
The multitudes thereof stopped the torrents. 
Their horsemen covered the hills. 
He bragged that he would burn up my border, 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


That he would kill my young men with the sword, 

That he would dash the sucking children against the ground, 
And make the children a prey and the virgins a spoil ; 

But the Almighty Lord hath disappointed him by the hand of a woman! 
The mighty one did not fall by young men, 

Neither did the sons of Titans set upon him, 

Nor did high giants set upon him ; 

But Judith, the daughter of Merari, weakened him with her beauty. 
For the exaltation of the oppressed in Israel 

She put off her garments of widowhood, 

She anointed herself with ointment, 

She bound her hair with a fillet, 

She took a linen garment to deceive him ; 

Her sandals ravished his eyes, 

Her beauty took his mind prisoner, 

So the fauchion passed through his neck. 

I will sing unto my God a new song : 

O Lord, thou art great and glorious, 

Wonderful in strength and invincible. 

Let all creatures praise thee, 

For thou speakest and they were made, 

Thou sentest thy spirit and created them. 

There is none can resist thy voice ; 

The mountains shall be moved from their foundations, 

The rocks shall melt like wax at thy presence, 

Yet art thou merciful to them that fear thee, 

For all sacrifice is too little for a sweet savor unto thee, 

All the fat is not enough for burnt-offerings ; 

But he that feareth the Lord is great at all times.” 


How magnificent is the conception of the woman here given! 
Lowly, devout, given up to loving memories of family life, yet 
capable in the hour of danger of rising to the highest inspirations 
of power. Poetess, prophetess, inspirer, leader, by the strength 
of that power by which the helpless hold the hand of Almighty 
God and triumph in his strength, she becomes the deliverer of. 
her people. 


WOMEN OF THE CHRISTIAN ERA, 


eee | 
be "ice 
hi 


“) 7 ‘ is oA 
:  &- a? 
atone Ada | 4g 


nik. 


MARY THE MYTHICAL MADONNA. 


=F O woman that ever lived on the face of the earth has 
been an object of such wonder, admiration, and 
worship as Mary the mother of Jesus. Around her 
~x* poetry, painting, and music have raised clouds of 
ever-shifting colors, splendid as those around the setting sun. 
Exalted above earth, she has been shown to us as a goddess, 
yet a goddess of a type wholly new. She is not Venus, not 
Minerva, not Ceres, nor Vesta. No goddess of classic antiq- 
uity or of any other mythology at all resembles that ideal 
being whom Christian art and poetry present to us in Mary. 
Neither is she like all of them united. She differs from them 
as Christian art differs from classical, wholly and entirely. 
Other goddesses have been worshiped for beauty, for grace, 
for power. Mary has been the Goddess of Poverty and Sor- 
row, of Pity and Mercy; and as suffering is about the only 
certain thing in human destiny, she has numbered her adorers 
in every land and climate and nation. In Mary, womanhood, 
in its highest and tenderest development of the Morurr, has 
been the object of worship. Motherhood with large capacities 
of sorrow, with the memory of bitter sufferings, with sympa- 
thies large enough to embrace every anguish of humanity ! — 
such an object of veneration has inconceivable power. 

The art history that has gradually grown up around the 
personality of the Madonna is entirely mythical. It is a long 
poem, recorded in many a legend or tradition, and one which 
one may see represented, scene after scene, in many a shrine 
and church and monastery devoted to her honor. 

According to these apocryphal accounts, the marvels begin 
before her birth. Her parents, Joachim and Anna, of the royal 
race of David, are childless, and bitterly grieved on this ac- 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


count. On a great festival-day, when Joachim brings a double 
offering to the Lord, he is rejected by the priest, saying, ‘ It 
is not lawful for thee to bring thine offering, since thou hast 
not begotten issue in Israel.” And Joachim was exceedingly 
sorrowful, and went away into the wilderness, and fasted forty 
days and forty nights, and said, ‘‘ Until the Lord my God look 
upon mine affliction, my only meat shall be prayer.” Then 
follows a long account of the affliction of Anna, and how she 
sat down under a laurel-tree in the garden, and bemoaned her- 
self and prayed. ‘And behold, the angel of the Lord stood by 
her, and said, Anna, thy prayer is heard; thou shalt bring 
forth, and thy child shall be blessed through the whole world. 
See, also, thy husband Joachim is coming with his shepherds, 
for an angel hath comforted him also. And Anna went forth 
to meet her husband, and Joachim came from the pasture, and 
they met at the golden gate, and Anna ran and embraced her 
husband, and said, Now know I that the Lord hath blessed 
me.” 

Then comes the birth of the auspicious infant, with all man- 
ner of signs of good omen. ‘ And when the child was three 
years old, Joachim said: Let us invite the daughters of Israel, 
that they may each take a taper and a lamp, and attend on 
her, that the child may not turn back from the temple of the 
Lord. And being come to the temple, they placed her on the 
first step, and she ascended all the steps to the altar, and the 
high-priest received her there, and kissed her and blessed her, 
saying, Mary, the Lord hath magnified thy name to all genera- 
tions; in thee shall all nations of the earth be blessed.” 

A magnificent picture by Titian, in the Academy at Venice, 
represents this scene. Everything about it is in gorgeous style, 
except the little Mary, who is a very literal, earthly, chubby bit 
of flesh and blood, and not in the least celestial. In the Church 
of Santa Maria della Salute in Venice, however, the child Mary, 
going up the temple steps, is a perfect little angel with a cloud 
of golden hair. Then we have flocks of pictures representing 
the sacred girlhood of Mary. She is vowed to the temple 
service, and spins and weaves and embroiders the purple and 


MARY THE MYTHICAL MADONNA. 


fine linen for sacerdotal purposes. She is represented as looked 
upon with awe and veneration by all the holy women who 
remain in the courts of the Lord, especially by the prophetess 
Anna, who declares to her her high destiny. It is recorded 
that her life was sustained by the ministry of angels, who 
daily visited and brought to her the bread of Paradise and 
the water of the River of Life. It is the tradition of the 
Greek Church that Mary alone of all her sex was allowed to 
enter the Holy of Holies, and pray before the ark of the 
covenant. 

In her fourteenth year the priest announced to her that it 
was time for her to be given in marriage, but she declared 
that she had vowed a life of virginity, and declined. But the 
high-priest told her that he had received a message from the 
Lord, and so she submitted. Then the high-priest inquired of 
the Lord, and was bid to order all the widowers of the people 
to come, each with his rod in his hand, that the Lord might 
choose one by a sign. And Joseph the carpenter came with 
the rest, and presented his rod, and lo! a white dove flew from 
it, and settled upon his head. According to St. Jerome, how- 
ever, the tradition has another version. ‘The rods of the can- 
didates were placed in the temple over night, and lo! in the 
morning Joseph’s rod had burst forth in leaves and flowers. 
The painting by Raphael, in the Brera at Milan, as fresh in 
color now as if but of yesterday, gives the medieval concep- 
tion of that wedding. 

Then come pictures of the wonderful Annunciation, thick as 
lilies in a meadow. The angel rainbow-wings, bedropped with 
gold, drift noiselessly like a cloud into the oratory where the 
holy virgin is in prayer, and bring her the wonderful story. 
The visitation to her cousin Elizabeth, the birth of the infant 
Jesus, the visit of the shepherds, the adoration of the Magi, 
come to our minds with a confused and dazzling memory of 
all that human art can do, with splendor of colors and richness 
of fancy, to embellish the theme. The presentation in the 
temple, the flight into Egypt, the repose by the way, the 
home-life at Nazareth, each has its clusters of mythical stories 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


that must be understood to read aright the paintings that tell 
them. We behold angels bending the branches of the trees 
to give the sacred wanderers fruit, —angels everywhere min- 
isterng about the simple offices of life, pouring water to wash 
the infant, holding the napkin, playing around him. Then come 
the darker scenes of the passion, the Via Dolorosa, the station 
by the cross, the sepulchers, in which all of pathos that human 
art can produce has been employed to celebrate the memory 
of that mother’s sorrows. 

There is a very ancient tradition spoken of by St. Ambrose, 
in the fourth century, as being then generally believed, that 
Christ, after his resurrection, appeared first to his mother, — she, 
who had his last cares for anything earthly, was first to wel- 
come his victory over death. The story as given by Mrs. 
Jameson, in her “Legends of the Madonna,” is, that Mary, 
when all was finished, retired to her solitude to pray, and wait 
for the promised resurrection; and while she prayed, with the 
open volume of the prophecies before her, a company of angels 
entered, waving their palms and singing, and then came Jesus, 
in white, having in his left hand the standard of the cross as 
one just returned from Hades, victorious over sin and death, 
and with him came patriarchs and prophets and holy saints of 
old. But the mother was not comforted till she heard the voice 
of her son. Then he raised his hand and blessed her, and 
said, ‘‘I salute thee, O my mother,” and she fell upon his neck 
weeping tears of joy. Then he bade her be comforted, and 
weep no more, for the pain of death had passed away, and the 
gates of hell had not prevailed against him; and she thanked 
him, meekly, on her knees, that he had been pleased to bring 
redemption to man and make her the humble instrument of 
his mercy. This legend has something in it so grateful to 
human sympathies, that the heart involuntarily believes it. 
Though the sacred record is silent, we may believe that He, 
who loved his own unto the end, did not forget his mother in 
her hour of deepest anguish. 

After the resurrection, the only mention made of Mary by 
the Evangelists is an incidental one in the first part of Acts. 


MARY THE MYTHICAL MADONNA. 


She is spoken of as remaining in prayer with the small band 
of Christian disciples, waiting for the promised Spirit which 
descended upon the day of Pentecost. After this she fades 
from our view entirely. According to the mythical history, 
however, her career of wonder and glory is only begun. Im- 
agination blossoms and runs wild in a tropical landscape of 
poetic glories. 

Mary is now the mother of the Christian Church. Before 
departing on their divine missions, the apostles come and 
solicit her blessing. The apocryphal books detail, at length, 
the circumstances of her death and burial, and the ascension 
of her glorified body to heaven, commonly called the Assump- 
tion. We make a few extracts: “And on a certain day the 
heart of Mary was filled with an inexpressible longing to be- 
hold her divine son, and she wept abundantly; and, lo, an 
angel appeared before her, clothed in light as in a garment, 
and he saluted her, and said, Hail, O Mary! blessed be he that 
giveth salvation to Israel! I bring thee here a palm branch, 
gathered in Paradise; command that it be carried before thy 
bier on the day of thy death, for in three days thy soul shall 
leave thy body and thou shalt enter Paradise, where thy son 
awaits thy coming.” Mary requested, in reply, three things, — 
the name of the angel; that she might once more see the 
apostles before her departure; and that on leaving the body 
no evil spirit should have power to affright her soul. The an- 
gel declared his name to be the Great and Wonderful, promised 
the reunion of the apostles around her dying bed, and assured 
her against the powers of darkness. ‘And having said these 
words, the angel departed into heaven; and, lo, the palm branch 
which he had left shed light in every leaf, and sparkled as 
the stars of the morning. Then Mary lighted the lamps and 
prepared her bed, and waited for the hour to come. And in 
the same instant John, who was preaching in Ephesus, and 
Peter, who was preaching at Antioch, and all the other apostles, 
who were dispersed in different parts of the world, were sud- 
denly caught up by a miraculous power, and found themselves 
before the habitation of Mary. When Mary saw them all 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


around her, she blessed and thanked the Lord, and placed in 
the hands of St. John the shining palm, and desired that he 
should bear it at the time of her burial.” 

It is then recorded that at the third hour of the night there 
came a sound as of a rushing mighty wind upon the house, 
and the chamber was filled with a heavenly odor, and Jesus 
himself appeared with a great train of patriarchs and prophets, 
who surrounded the dying bed, singing hymns of joy; and 
Jesus said to his mother, ‘‘ Arise, my beloved, mine elect, 
come with me from Lebanon, mine espoused, and receive the 
crown prepared for thee.” And Mary answered, ‘ My heart is 
ready ; in the book is it written of me, Lo, I come to do thy 
will” Then amid songs of angels, the soul of Mary left her 
body and passed to the arms of Jesus. A beautiful little pic- 
ture by Fra Angelico represents this scene. The soul of Mary 
is seen as an infant in the arms of Jesus, who looks down on 
it with heavenly tenderness. The lifeless form, as it lies sur- 
rounded by the weeping apostles, has that sacred and touching 
beauty that so often seals with the seal of Heaven the face 
of the dead. It is a picture painted by the heart, and worthy 
to be remembered for a lifetime. 

Then follows an account of the funeral, and where the body 
was laid; but, like that of Jesus, it was not destined to see 
corruption, and on the morning of the third day she rose in | 
immortal youth and beauty, and ascended to heaven amid 
troops of angels, blowing their silver trumpets and singing as 
they rose, ‘‘Who is she that riseth fair as the moon, clear as 
the sun, terrible as an army with banners?” The legend 
goes on to say that Thomas was not present, and that when 
he arrived he refused to believe in her resurrection, and de- 
sired that her tomb should be opened; and when it was 
opened, it was found full of lilies and roses. Then Thomas, - 
looking up to heaven, beheld her in glory, and she, for the 
assurance of his faith, threw down to him her girdle. 

Thus far the legends.* One may stand in the Academy in 


* The sources from which these are drawn are the apocryphal books of the New Testa- 
ment. 


MARY THE MYTHICAL MADONNA. 


Venice and see the scene of Mary’s ascension in the great 
picture of Titian, which seems to lift one off one’s feet, and 
fairly draw one upward in its glory of color and its ecstasy 
of triumphant joy. It is a charming feature in this picture 
that the holy mother is represented as borne up by myriads 
of lovely little children. Such a picture is a vivid rendering 
to the eye of the spirit of the age which produced it. 

Once started, the current of enthusiasm for the Madonna 
passed all bounds, and absorbed into itself all that belonged to 
the Saviour of mankind. All the pity, the mercy, the sympathy, 
of Jesus were forgotten and overshadowed in the image of this 
divine mother. Christ, to the mind of the Middle Ages, was 
only the awful Judge, whom Michael Angelo painted in his ter- 
rific picture grasping thunderbolts, and dealing damnation on 
the lost, while his pitiful mother hides her eyes from the sight. 

Dr. Pusey, in his “ Hirenicon,” traces the march of mari- 
olatry through all the countries of the world. He shows how 
to Mary have been ascribed, one after another, all the divine 
attributes and offices. How she is represented commanding 
her son in heaven with the authority of a mother; and how 
he is held to owe to her submissive obedience. How she, 
being identified with him in all that he is and does, is re- 
ceived with him in the sacrament, and is manifest in the real 
presence. In short, how, by fhe enormous growth of an idea, 
there comes to be at last no God but Mary. Martin Luther 
describes, in his early experiences, how completely the idea 
of the true Redeemer was hidden from his mind by this style 
of representation; that in the ceremony of the mass he trem- 
bled, and his knees sunk under him for fear, on account of the 
presence of Christ the Judge of the earth. When we look back 
to the earlier ecclesiastical history, we find no trace of all this 
peculiar veneration. None of the Apocryphal Gospels have 
higher antiquity than the third or fourth century. 

In Smith’s Dictionary of the Bible, article Mary, this question 
is settled by a comprehensive statement.* ‘ What,” the writer 
says, “‘was the origin of this cultus? Certainly not the Bible. 


* The article is by Rev. F. Meyrick, M. A., one of her Majesty’s inspectors of schools, 
late fellow and tutor of Trinity College, Oxford. 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


There is not a word there from which it could be inferred, 
nor in the creeds, nor in the fathers of the first five centuries. 
We may trace every page they have left us, and we shall 
find nothing of the kind. There is nothing of the sort in the 
supposed works of Hermas and Barnabas, nor in the real works 
of Clement, Ignatius, and Polycarp; that is, the doctrine is 
not to be found in the first century. There is nothing in 
Justin Martyr, Tatian, Anathagoras, Theophilus, Clement of 
Alexandria, Tertullian; that is to say, nothing in the second 
century.” 

In the same manner he reviews the authors of the third, 
the fourth, the fifth century, and shows that there are no 
traces of this style of feeling. Moreover, he cites passages 
from the Christian fathers of the first three or four centuries, 
where Mary is as freely spoken of and criticised, and repre- 
sented subject to sins of infirmity, as other Christians. Ter- 
tullian speaks of her ‘ unbelief.” Origen interprets the sword 
that should pierce through her heart as ‘ unbelief”; and in 
the fourth century, St. Basil gives the same interpretation; in 
the fifth century, St. Chrysostom accuses her of excessive am- 
bition and foolish arrogance and vainglory, in wishing to speak 
with Jesus while engaged in public ministries. Several others 
are quoted, commenting upon her in a manner that must be 
painful to the sensibility of even those who never cherished - 
for her a superstitious veneration. No person of delicate ap- 
preciation of character can read the brief narrative of the New 
Testament and not feel that such comments do great injustice 
to the noblest and loveliest among women. 

The character of Mary has suffered by reaction from the 
idolatrous and fulsome adoration which has been bestowed on 
her. In the height of the controversy between Protestants and 
the Romish church there has been a tendency to the side of 
unjust depreciation on the part of the former to make up for 
the unscriptural excesses of the latter. What, then, was the 
true character of Mary, highly favored, and blessed among 
women? It can only be inferred by the most delicate analysis 
of the little that the Scripture has given; this we reserve for 
another article. 


MARY THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 


ROM out the cloudy ecstasies of poetry, painting, and 
religious romance, we grope our way back to the 
simple story of the New Testament, to find, if possi- 
ble, by careful study, the lineaments of the real Mary 

the mother of our Lord. Who and what really was the woman 
highly favored over all on earth, chosen by God to be the mother 
of the Redeemer of the world? It is our impression that the true 
character will be found more sweet, more strong, more wonder- 
ful in its perfect naturalness and humanity, than the idealized, 
superangelic being which has been gradually created by poetry 
and art. 

That the Divine Being, in choosing a woman to be the mother, 
the educator, and for thirty years the most intimate friend, of his 
son, should have selected one of rare and peculiar excellences 
seems only probable. It was from her that the holy child, who 
was to increase in wisdom and in stature, was to learn from day 
to day the constant and needed lessons of inexperienced infancy 
and childhood. Her lips taught him human language; her 
lessons taught him to read the sacred records of the law and the 
prophets, and the sacred poetry of the psalms; to her he was 
“subject,” when the ardor of childhood expanding into youth led 
him to quither side and spend his time in the temple at the feet 
of the Doctors of the Law: with her he lived in constant com- 
munion during those silent and hidden years of his youth that 
preceded his mission. A woman so near to Christ, so identified 
with him in the largest part of his life, cannot but be a subject 
of the deepest and most absorbing study to the Christian heart. 
And yet there is in regard to this most interesting subject an 
utter silence of any authentic tradition, so far as we have studied, 
of the first two or three centuries. There is nothing related by 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


St. John, with whom Mary lived as with a son after the Saviour’s 
death, except the very brief notices in his Gospel. Upon this 
subject, as upon that other topic so exciting to the mere human 
heart, the personal appearance of Jesus, there is a reticence that 
impresses us like a divine decree of secrecy. 

In all that concerns the peculiarly human relations of Jesus, 
the principle that animated his apostles after the descent of the 
Holy Spirit was, ‘Yea, though we have known Christ after the 
flesh, yet now, henceforth, know we him no more.” His 
family lite with his mother would doubtless have opened lovely 
pages; but it must remain sealed up among those many things 
spoken of by St. John, which, if they were recorded, the 
“world itself could not contain the books that should be 
written.” All that we have, then, to build upon is the brief 
account given in the Gospels. The first two chapters of St. 
Matthew and the first two chapters of St. Luke are our only 
data, except one or two very brief notices in St. John, and 
one slight mention in the Acts. 

In part, our conception of the character of Mary may re- 
ceive light from her nationality. A fine human being is never 
the product of one generation, but rather the outcome of a 
erowth of ages. Mary was the offspring and flower of a race 
selected, centuries before, from the finest physical stock of the 
world, watched over, trained, and cultured, by Divine over- 
sight, in accordance with every physical and mental law for 
the production of sound and vigorous mental and bodily con- 
ditions. Her blood came to her in a channel of descent over 
which the laws of Moses had established a watchful care; a 
race where marriage had been made sacred, family life a vital 
point, and motherhood invested by Divine command with an 
especial sanctity. As Mary was in a certain sense a product 
of the institutes of Moses, so it is an interesting coincidence 
that she bore the name of his sister, the first and most honored 
of the line of Hebrew prophetesses, — Mary being the Latin 
version of the Hebrew Miriam. She had also, as we read, a 
sister, the wife of Cleopas, who bore the same name, —a cus- 
tom not infrequent in Jewish families. It is suggested, that, 


MARY THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 


Miriam being a sacred name and held in high traditionary 
honor, mothers gave it to their daughters, as now in Spain 
they call them after the Madonna as a sign of good omen. 

There is evidence that Mary had not only the sacred name 
of the first great prophetess, but that she inherited, in the line 
of descent, the poetic and prophetic temperament. She was of 
the royal line of David, and poetic visions and capabilities of 
high enthusiasm were in her very lineage. The traditions of 
the holy and noble women of her country’s history were all 
open to her as sources of inspiration. Miriam, leading the 
sone of national rejoicing on the shore of the Red Sea; 
Deborah, mother, judge, inspirer, leader, and poet of her na- 
tion; Hannah, the mother who won so noble a son of Heaven 
by prayer; the daughter of Jephtha, ready to sacrifice herself 
to her country; Huldah, the prophetess, the interpreter of 
God’s will to kings; Queen Esther, riskitig her life for her 
people; and Judith, the beautiful and chaste deliverer of her 
nation, — these were the spiritual forerunners of Mary, the 
ideals with whom her youthful thoughts must have been fa- 
miliar. 

The one hymn of Mary’s composition which has found place 
in the sacred records pictures in a striking manner the exalted 
and poetic side of her nature. It has been compared with the 
song of Hannah the mother of Samuel, and has been spoken 
of as taken from it. But there is only that resemblance which 
sympathy of temperament and a constant contemplation of the 
same class of religious ideas would produce. It was the ex- 
altation of a noble nature expressing itself in the form and 
imagery supplied by the traditions and history of her nation. 
We are reminded that Mary was a daughter of David by cer- 
tain tones in her magnificent hymn, which remind us of many 

of the Psalms of that great heart-poet. 

Being of royal lineage, Mary undoubtedly cherished in her 
bosom the traditions of her house with that secret fervor which 
belongs to enthusiastic natures. We are to suppose her, like 
all Judzean women, intensely national in her feelings. She 
identified herself with her country’s destiny, lived its life, suf- 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


fered in its sufferings, and waited and prayed for its deliver- 
ance and glories. This was a time of her nation’s deep hu- 
miliation. ‘The throne and scepter had passed from Judah. 
Conquered, trodden down, and oppressed, the sacred land was 
under the rule of Pagan Rome; Herod, the appointed sover- 
eign, was a blaspheming, brutal tyrant, using all his power 
to humiliate and oppress; and we may imagine Mary as one 
of the small company of silent mourners, like Simeon, and 
Anna the prophetess, who pondered the Scriptures and ‘looked 
for salvation in Israel.” She was betrothed to her cousin 
Joseph, who was, like herself, of the royal lmeage. He was 
a carpenter, in accordance with that excellent custom of the 
Jewish law which required every man to be taught a mechani- 
cal trade. They were in humble circumstances, and dwelt in 
a village proverbial for the meanness and poverty of its inhab- 
itants. We can imagine them as m, but not of, the sordid 
and vulgar world of Nazareth, living their life of faith and 
prayer, of mournful memories of past national glory, and long- 
ing hopes for the future. 

The account of the visitation of the angel to Mary is given 
by St. Luke, and by him alone. His Gospel was written later 
than those of Matthew and Mark, and designed for the Greek 
churches, and it seems but natural that in preparing himself to 
write upon this theme he should seek information from Mary | 
herself, the fountain-head. Biblical critics discover traces of 
this communication in the different style of these first two chap- 
ters of St. Luke. While the rest of the book is written in 
pure classic Greek, this is full of Hebraisms, and has all the 
marks of being translated from the Syro-Chaldaic tongue, 
which was the popular dialect of Palestine, and in which 
Mary must have given her narrative. 

Let us now look at the simple record. ‘And in the sixth 
month the angel Gabriel was sent from God unto a city of 
Galilee named Nazareth, to a virgin espoused to a man named 
Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin’s name was 
Mary. And the angel came in unto her and said, Hail, highly 
favored! the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women ! 


MARY THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 


And when she saw him she was troubled at his saying, and 
cast in her mind what manner of salutation this should be.” 

All these incidents, in their very nature, could be known to 
Mary alone. She was in solitude, without a human witness; 
from her the whole detail must have come. It gives not only 
the interview, but the passing thoughts and emotions of her 
mind; she was agitated, and cast about what this should mean. 
We see in all this that serious, calm, and balanced nature 
which was characteristic of Mary. Habitually living in the 
contemplation of that spirit-world revealed in the Scriptures, 
it was no very startling thing to her to see an angel standing 
by, —her thoughts had walked among the angels too long 
for that; but his enthusiastic words of promise and_ blessing 
agitated her soul. 

“And the angel said unto her, Fear not, Mary, for thou 
hast found favor with God, and behold thou shalt conceive 
in thy womb and bring forth a son and shalt call his name 
Jesus. He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the 
Highest, and the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of 
his father * David, and he shall reign over the house of Jacob 
forever, and of his kingdom there shall be no end.” 

A weaker woman would have been dazzled and overcome 
by such a vision, —appealing to all her personal ambition, — 
and her pride of nation and her religious enthusiasm telling 


* Tt is remarkable that in this interview the angel, in the same connection, informs 
Mary that her son shall have no human father, and that David shall be his ancestor. 
The inference is clear that Mary is herself of the house of David. Coincident with 
this we find a genealogy of Jesus in this Gospel of Luke differing entirely from the 
genealogy in Matthew. Very able critics have therefore contended that, as Luke evi- 
dently received his account from Mary, the genealogy he gives is that of her ancestry, 
and that the “Heli” who is mentioned in Luke as the ancestor of Jesus was his 
grandfather, the father of Mary. Very skillful and able Biblical critics have supported 
this view, among whom are Paulus, Spanheim, and Lightfoot. The latter goes the 
length ®f saying that there are no difficulties in these genealogies but what have been 
made by commentators. In Lightfoot, notes in Luke, third chapter, the argument is 
given at length, and he adds testimonies to show that Mary was called the daughter 
of Heli by the early Jewish Rabbins, who traduced her for her pretensions in reference 
to her son. He quotes three passages from different Rabbins in the Jerusalem Talmud, 
or “Chigagah,” folio 77. 4, where this Mary, mother of Jesus, is denounced as the 
“daughter of Helv aitd mother of a pretender.” 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


her that she had drawn the prize which had been the high 
ideal of every Jewish woman from the beginning of time. But 
Mary faces the great announcement with a countenance of calm 
inquiry. “Then said Mary to the angel, How shall this be, 
seeing | am yet a virgin?” And the angel answered and said 
unto her, ‘The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee; the power 
of the Highest shall overshadow thee; therefore, also, that holy 
progeny which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son 
of God; and behold, also, thy cousin Elisabeth, she also hath 
conceived a son in her old age; and this is the sixth month 
with her who was called barren. For with God nothing shall 
be impossible.” 

In this announcement a Jewish betrothed woman must have 
seen a future of danger to her reputation and her life; for 
who would believe a story of which there was no mortal wit- 
ness? But Mary accepted the high destiny and the fearful 
danger with an entire surrender of herself into God’s hands. 
Her reply is not one of exultation, but of submission. ‘‘ Be- 
hold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to 
his word.” 

The next step taken by Mary is in accordance with the 
calmest practical good sense, and displays an energy and a 
control over other minds which must have been uncommon. 
She resolves to visit her cousin Elisabeth in the mountain 
country. The place is supposed to have been near Hebron, 
and involved a journey of some twenty miles through a rug- 
ged country. For a young maiden to find means of perform- 
ing this journey, which involved attendance and _ protection, 
without telling the reason for which she resolved upon it, seems 
to show that Mary had that kind of character which inspires 
confidence, and leads those around her to feel that a thing is 
right and proper because she has determined it. 

The scene of the visitation as given in St. Luke shows the 
height above common thought and emotion on which these 
holy women moved. Elisabeth, filled with mspired ardor, spoke 
out with a loud voice and said, ‘ Blessed art thou among 
women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb. And whence 


MARY THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 


is this to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to 
me? And blessed be she that believed: for there shall be a 
performance of those things which have been promised of the 
Lord.” Then the prophetic fire fell upon Mary, and she broke 
forth into the immortal psalm which the Church still cherishes 
as the first hymn of the new dispensation. 


“ My soul doth magnify the Lord ; 
My spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour, 
For he hath regarded the low estate of his handmaid ; 
For, behold, henceforth all generations shall call me blessed ! 
For he that is mighty hath done great things to me, 
And holy is his name, 
And his mercy is on them that fear him 
From generation to generation. 
He hath showed strength with his arm ; 
He hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts, 
He hath put down the mighty from their seats 
And exalted them of low degree, 
He hath filled the hungry with good things 
And the rich hath he sent empty away, 
He hath holpen his servant Israel 
In remembrance of his mercy, 
As he spake to our fathers, 
To Abraham and his seed forever.” 


In these words we see, as in the song of Hannah, the ex- 
altation of a purely unselfish spirit, whose personal experiences 
merge themselves in those of universal humanity. One line 
alone expresses her intense sense of the honor done her, and 
all the rest is exultation in her God as the helper of the poor, 
the neglected, the despised and forgotten, and the Saviour of 
her oppressed country. No legend of angel ministrations or 
myths of miracle can so glorify Mary in our eyes as this sim- 
ple picture of her pure and lofty unselfishness of spirit. 

We are told that this sacred visit lasted three months. A 
mythical legend speaks of a large garden, pertaining to the 
priests’ house, where Mary was wont to walk for meditation and 
prayer, and that, bending one day over a flower, beautiful, but 
devoid of fragrance, she touched it and thenceforth it became 
endowed with a sweet perfume. The myth is a lovely allegory 
of the best power of a true and noble Christian woman. 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


On returning to Nazareth, Mary confronted the danger which 
beset her situation with the peculiar, silent steadfastness which 
characterized her. From the brief narrative of Matthew, which 
mainly respects the feelings of Joseph, we infer that Mary 
made no effort at self-justification, but calmly resigned herself 
to the vindication of God in his own time and way. As the 
private feelings of Mary are recorded only by Luke, and the 
private experiences of Joseph by Matthew, it is to be supposed 
that the narrative is derived from these two sources. 

We have no other characteristic incident of Mary’s conduct; 
nothing that she said or did during the next eventful scenes 
of her life. The journey to Bethlehem, the birth of Jesus, the 
visit of the shepherds and of the magi, full of the loveliest 
poetic suggestion, are all silent shrines so far as utterance or 
action of hers is given to us. That she was peculiarly a silent 
woman is inferred from the only mention of her, in particular, 
by St. Luke when recording these wonderful scenes. When 
the shepherds, sent by angelic visitors, came to Bethlehem, we 
are told, ‘‘ And they came with haste, and found Joseph and 
Mary, and the babe lying in a manger; and when they had 
seen it they made known abroad the saying which was told 
them concerning this child. And all that heard it wondered. 
But Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart.” 
She is one of those women who are remarkable for the things 
they do not say. 

We next find her at Jerusalem, going with her husband to 
present her first-born son in the Temple, and to offer the 
humble sacrifice appointed for the poor. A modern English 
painting represents her as sheltering in her bosom the two in- 
nocent white doves destined to bloody death, emblems of the 
fate of the holy child whom she presented. Here the sacred 
story gives an interesting incident. 

We catch a glimpse at one of the last of the Hebrew proph- 
etesses in the form of Anna, of whom the narrative says, “ She 
was of great age, and had lived with an husband seven years 
from her virginity, and she was a widow of about fourscore 
and four years, which departed not from the Temple, but 


MARY THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 


served God with fasting and prayer day and night.” She 
came in and welcomed the holy child. We are introduced 
also to the last of the prophets. ‘‘ And behold there was a 
man in Jerusalem named Simeon, and the same was just and 
devout, waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy 
Ghost was upon him, and it was revealed unto him by the 
Holy Ghost that he should not see death before he had seen 
the Lord’s Messiah. And he came by the Spirit into the Tem- 
ple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do 
for him according to the custom of the law, then took he him 
up in his arms and blessed God and said : — 


“ Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, 
For mine eyes have seen thy salvation 
Which thou hast prepared before the face of all people, 
A light to lighten the Gentiles and the glory of thy people Israel.” 


And Joseph and his mother marveled at the things which 
were spoken of him. The contrast between the helpless babe 
and the magnificence of his promised destiny kept them in a 
state of constant astonishment. And Simeon blessed them, 
and said unto Mary his mother, ‘ Behold this child is set for 
the fall and the rising again of many in Israel, and for a 
sion that shall be spoken against. Yea, a sword shall pierce 
through thine own soul also, that the thoughts of many hearts 
may be revealed.” 

This prophecy must have been a strange enigma to Mary. 
According to the prediction of the angel, her son was to be a 
triumphant king, to reign on the throne of his father David, 
to restore the old national prestige, and to make his people 
rulers over the whole earth. The great truth that the king- 
dom was not of this world, and the dominion a moral victory ; 
that it was to be won through rejection, betrayal, denial, tor- 
ture, and shameful death; that the Jewish nation were to be 
finally uprooted and scattered, —all this was as much hidden 
from the eyes of Mary as from those of the whole nation. 
The gradual unveiling of this mystery was to test every char- 
acter connected with it by the severest wrench of trial. ‘The 
latent worldliness and pride of many, seemingly good, would 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


be disclosed, and even the pure mother would be pierced to 
the very heart with the anguish of disappointed hopes. Such 
was the prophecy of which the life of Mary was a long fulfill- 
ment. ‘The slow perplexity of finding an entirely different des- 
tiny for her son from the brilliant one foretold in prophetic 
symbols was to increase from year to year, till it culminated 
at the foot of the cross. 

The next we see of Mary is the scene in the Temple where 
she seeks her son. It shows the social and cheerful nature of 
the boy, and the love in which he was held, that she should 
have missed him a whole day from her side without alarm, 
supposing that he was with the other children of the great 
family caravans traveling festively homeward from Jerusalem. 
Not finding him, she returns alarmed to Jerusalem, and, after 
three days of fruitless search, finds him sitting in the school 
of the doctors of the Temple. Her agitation and suppressed 
alarm betray themselves in her earnest and grieved words: 
“Son, why hast thou dealt thus with us? behold thy father 
and I have sought thee sorrowing.” The answer of Jesus was 
_ given with an unconscious artlessness, as a child of heaven 
might speak. ‘Why did you seek me? Did you not know 
I would be at my Father's house?”* This was doubtless one 
of those peculiar outflashings of an inward light which some- 
times break unconsciously from childhood, and it is said, ‘‘ They 
understood not the saying.” It was but a gleam of the higher | 
nature, and it was gone in a moment; for it is said immedi- 
ately after that he went down with them unto Nazareth, and 
was subject to them; but, it is added significantly, ‘ his mother 
kept all these sayings and pondered them in her heart.” Then 
came twenty years of obscurity and silence, when Jesus lived 
the plain, literal life of a village mechanic. ‘Is not this the 
carpenter, the son of Mary?” they said of him when he ap- 
peared in the synagogue of his native village. , 

How unaccountable to Mary must have appeared that si- 
lence! It was as if God had forgotten his promises. The son 
of her cousin Elisabeth, too, grew up and lived the life of an 


* This is said by able critics to be the sense of the original. 


MARY THE MOTHER OF JESUS, 


anchorite in the desert. It appears from his testimony after- 
wards that he kept up no personal acquaintance with Jesus, 
and “knew him not,” so that a sign from heaven was neces- 
sary to enable him to recognize the Messiah. 

From the specimens of the village gossip at the time of 
Christ’s first public teaching in Nazareth, it appears that neither 
in the mother of Christ nor in Christ himself had his towns- 
folk seen anything to excite expectation. In his last prayer 
Jesus says to his Father, ‘O righteous Father, the world hath 
not known thee.” In like manner Nazareth knew not Mary and 
Jesus. ‘‘He was in the world, and the world was made by 
him, and the world knew him not.” 

At last comes the call of John the Baptist; the wave of 
popular feeling rises, and Jesus leaves his mother to go to his 
baptism, his great initiation. The descending Spirit, the voice 
from heaven, ordain him to his work, but immediately the 
prophetic impulse drives him from the habitation of man, and 
for more than a month he wanders in the wilderness, on the 
borders of that spirit-land where he encountered the tempta- 
tions that were to fit him for his work. We shall see that 
the whole drift of these temptations was, that he should use 
his miraculous powers and gifts for personal ends: he should 
create bread to satisfy the pangs of his own hunger, instead 
of waiting on the providence of God; he should cast himself 
from the pinnacles of the Temple, that he might be upborne 
by angels and so descend among the assembled multitude with 
the pomp and splendor befitting his station; instead of the 
toilsome way of a religious teacher, laboring for success 
through the slowly developing spiritual life of individuals, he 
should seek the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them, 
and spread his religion by their power. But, in all the past 
traditions of the prophetic office, the sapernatural power was 
always regarded as a sacred deposit never to be used by its 
possessor for any private feeling or personal end. [Elijah fasted 
forty days in his wanderings without using this gift to supply 
his own wants; and Jesus, the greatest of the ~propheis, was 


the most utterly and thoroughly possessed with the unselfish 
20 


WOMAN IN SACKED HISTORY. 


spirit of the holy office, and repelled from him with indigna- 
tion every suggestion of the tempter. 

When he returned from his seclusion in the desert, we find 
him once more in his mother’s society, and we see them 
united in the episode of the marriage at Cana. His mother’s 
mind is, doubtless, full of the mysterious change that has 
passed upon her son and of triumph in his high calling. She 
knows that he has received the gift of miraculous power, 
though as yet he has never used it. It was most human, and 
most natural, and quite innocent, that after so many years of 
patient waiting she should wish to see this bright career of 
miracles begin. His family also might have felt some of the 
eagerness of family pride in the display of his gifts. 

When, therefore, by an accident, the wedding festivities are 
at a stand, Mary turns to her son with the habit of a mother 
who has felt for years that she owned all that her son could 
do, and of a Jewish mother who had always commanded his. 
reverence. She thinks, to herself, that he has the power of 
working miracles, and here is an opportunity to display it. 
She does not directly ask, but there is suggestion in the very 
manner in which she looks to him and says, ‘‘ They have no 
wine.” Immediately from him, usually so tender and yielding, 
comes an abrupt repulse, ‘‘Woman,* what have I to do with 
thee? mine hour is not yet come.” What sacred vital spot. 
has she touched unaware with her maternal hand? It is,. 
although she knows it not, the very one which had been 
touched before by the Enemy in the wilderness. 

This sacred, mysterious, awful gift of miracles was not his. 
to use for any personal feeling or desire, not to gratify a 
mother’s innocent ambition, or to please the family pride of 
kindred; and there is the earnestness of a sense of danger in 
the manner in which he throws off the suggestion, the same 
abrupt earnestness with which he afterwards rebuked Peter 
when he pleaded with him to avoid the reproaches and suffer- 
ings which lay in his path. 


* The address woman.” sounds abrupt and harsh, but in the original language it was a 
term of respect. Our Lord, in his dying moments, used the same form to his mother, — 
* Woman, behold thy son.” 


MARY THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 


The whole of this story is not told in full, but it is evident 
that the understanding between Jesus and his mother was so 
immediate, that, though he had reproved her for making the 
suggestion, she was still uncertain whether he might not yet 
see it consistent to perform the miracle, and so, at once, leay- 
ing it to him in meek submission, she said to the servants 
standing by, ‘‘ Whatsoever he saith unto you do it.” This tone 
to the servants, assumed by Mary, shows the scene to have 
occurred in the family of a kinsman, where she felt herself in 
the position of directress. 

After an interval of some time, Jesus commands the servants 
to fill the watering-pots with water, and performs the desired 
miracle. We cannot enter into the secret sanctuary of that 
divine mind, nor know exactly what Jesus meant by saying 
‘‘Mine hour is not yet come”; it was a phrase of frequent 
occurrence with him when asked to take steps in his life. 
Probably it was some inward voice or call by which he felt 
the Divine will moving with his own, and he waited after the 
suggestion of Mary till this became clear to him. What he 
might not do from partial affection, he might do at the Divine 
motion, as sanctioning that holy state of marriage which the 
Jewish law had done so much to make sacred. The first 
miracle of the Christian dispensation was wrought in honor of 
the family state, which the Mosaic dispensation had done so 
much to establish and confirm. 

The trials of Mary as a mother were still further complicated 
by the unbelief of her other children in the divine mission of 
Jesus. His brethren had the usual worldly view of who and 
what the Messiah was to be. He was to come as a conquer- 
ing king, with pomp of armies, and reign in Jerusalem. This 
silent, prayerful brother of theirs, who has done nothing but 
work at his trade, wander in the wilderness and pray and 
preach, even though gifted with miraculous power, does not 
seem in the least to them like a king and conqueror. He may 
be a prophet, but as the great Messiah they cannot believe in 
him. They fear, in fact, that he is losing his senses in wild, 
fanatical expectation. 


WOMAN IN SACKED HISTORY. 


We have a scene given by St. John where his brethren 
urge him, if he is the Messiah and has divine power, to go 
up to Jerusalem and make a show of it at once. The feast 
of tabernacles is at hand, and his brethren say to him, ‘“ De- 
part hence and go into Judea, that thy disciples may see the 
works that thou doest. If thou do these things, show thyself 
to the world. . For neither did his brethren believe on him. 
Then said Jesus, My time is not yet come; but your time is 
always ready. The world cannot hate you, but me it hateth 
because I testify of it that the works thereof are evil. Go ye 
up to this feast. I go not up yet, for my time is not yet 
full come.” 

To the practical worldly eye, Jesus was wasting his time 
and energies. If he was to set up a kingdom, why not go to 
Jerusalem, work splendid miracles, enlist the chief-priests and 
scribes, rouse the national spirit, unfurl the standard, and con- 
quer? Instead of that he begins his ministry by choosing two 
or three poor men as disciples, and going on foot from village 
to village preaching repentance. He is simply doing the work 
of a home missionary. True, there come reports of splendid 
miracles, but they are wrought in obscure places among very 
poor people, and apparently with no motive but the impulse 
of compassion and love to the suffering. ‘Then he is exhaust- 
ing himself in labors, he is thronged by the crowds of the 
poor and sorrowful, till he has no time so much as to eat. 
His brethren, taking the strong, coarse, worldly view of the 
matter, think he is destroying himself, and that he ought to 
be taken home by his friends with friendly violence till he 
recover the balance of his mind; as it is said by one Kvange- 
list, “‘ They went out to lay hands on him, for they said, He is 
beside himself.” Thus the prophecy is fulfilling: he is a sign 
that is spoken against; the thoughts of many hearts are being 
revealed through him, and the sword is piercing deeper and 
deeper every day into the heart of his mother. Her heart of 
heart is touched, —in this son is her life; she is filled with 
anxiety, she longs to go to him,—they need not lay hands 
on him; she will speak to him,—he who always loved her 


MARY THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 


voice, and for so many years has been subject to her, will 
surely come back with her. In this hour of her life Mary ‘is 
the type of the trial through which all mothers must pass at 
the time when they are called on to resign a son to his des- 
tiny in the world, and to feel that he is theirs no more; that 
henceforth he belongs to another life, other duties and affec- 
tions, than theirs. Without this experience of sorrow Mary 
would have been less dear to the heart of mortal woman and 
mother. 

Jesus, meanwhile, is surrounded by an eager crowd to whom 
he is teaching the way to God. He is in that current of joy 
above all joy where he can see the new immortal life springing 
up under his touch; he feels in himself the ecstasy of that 
spiritual vigor which he is awakening in all around him; he 
is comforting the mourner, opening the eyes of the spiritually 
blind, and lighting the fire of heavenly love in cold and com- 
fortless hearts. Love without bounds, the love of the shepherd 
and bishop of souls, flows from him to the poor whom he is 
enriching. The ecstatic moment is interrupted by a message: 
“Thy mother and thy brethren stand without, desirmg to speak 
with thee.” With a burst of heavenly love he spreads his arms 
towards the souls whom he is guiding, and says, ‘‘ Who is my 
mother and who are my brethren? My mother and my brethren 
are these that hear the Word of God and do it; for whosoever 
will do the will of my Father in heaven, the same is my brother 
and sister and mother.” As well attempt to imprison the light 
of the joyous sun in one dwelling as to bound the infinite 
love of Jesus by one family ! 

There was an undoubted purpose in the record of these 
two places where Jesus so positively declares that he had risen 
to a sphere with which his maternal relations had nothing to 
do. They were set as a warning and a protest, in advance, 
against that idolatry of the woman and mother the advent of 
which he must have foreseen. 

In the same manner we learn that, while he was teaching, 
a woman cried out in enthusiasm, ‘‘ Blessed be the womb that 
bore thee, and the paps that thou hast sucked.” But he an- 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


swered, ‘‘ Yea, rather, blessed are they that hear the Word of 
God and do it.” In the same grave spirit of serious admoni- 
tion he checked the delight of his disciples when they exulted 
in miraculous gifts. ‘ Lord, even the devils were subject unto 
us.” Rejoice not that the devils are subject to you, but rather 
rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” 

Undoubtedly an hour was found to console and quiet the 
fears of his mother so far as in the nature of the case they 
could be consoled. But the radical difficulty, with her as with 
his own disciples, lay in the fixed and rooted idea of the tem- 
poral Messianic kingdom. ‘There was an awful depth of sorrow 
before them, to which every day was bringing them nearer. 
It was pathetic to see how Jesus was moving daily among 
friends that he loved and to whom he knew that his career 
was to be one of the bitterest anguish and disappointment. 
He tried in the plainest words to tell them the scenes of his 
forthcoming trial, rejection, suffering, death, and resurrection, — 
words so plain that we wonder any one could hear them and 
not understand,—and yet it is written, “They understood not 
his saying. They questioned one with another what the ris- 
ing from the dead should mean.” ‘They discussed offices and 
stations in the new kingdom, and contended who should be 
ereatest. When the mother of James and John asked the 
place of honor for her sons, he looked at her with a pathetic . 
patience. 

“Ye know not what ye ask. Can ye drink of the cup that 
I shall drink? Can ye be baptized with my baptism? They 
said, We are able.” He answered, with the scenes of the 
cross in view, ‘Ye shall, indeed, drink of the cup I shall 
drink, and be baptized with my baptism; but to sit on my 
right hand and my left is not mine to give. It shall be given 
to them for whom it is prepared of my Father.” 

We see no more of Mary till we meet her again standing 
with the beloved John at the foot of the cross. The supreme 
hour is come; the sword has gone to the depths! All that 
she hoped is blasted, and all that she feared is come! In this 
hour, when faith and hope were both darkened, Mary stood 


MARY THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 


“by the power of love. She stood by the cross! ‘The words are 
characteristic and wonderful. We see still the same intense, 
outwardly collected woman who met the salutation of the angel 
with calm inquiry, and accepted glory and danger with such 
self-surrender, — silent, firm, sustained in her anguish as in her 
joy! After years of waiting and hope deferred, after such 
glorious miracles, such mighty deeds and words, such evident 
tokens of God’s approval, she sees her son forsaken by God 
and man. ‘To hers as to no other mortal ears must have 
sounded that death-cry, ‘““My God, my God, why hast thou 
forsaken me?” 

But through all, Mary stood; she did not faint or fall, — 
she was resolved to drink of His cup to the last bitter 
dregs. Though the whole world turn against him, though 
God himself seems to forsake him, she will stand by him, 
she will love him, she will adore him till death, and after, and 
forever ! 

The dying words of Jesus have been collected and arranged 
by the Church in a rosary, — pearls brought up from the depths 
of a profound agony, and of precious value in all sorrow. Of 
those seven last words it is remarkable what a proportion were 
words for other than himself. The first sharp pang of torture 
wrung from him the prayer, “‘ Father, forgive them; they know 
not what they do.” The second word was of pardon and com- 
fort to the penitent thief. The third the commendation of his 
mother to his beloved friend. 

If any mortal creature might be said to have entered into 
the sufferings of the great atonement with Jesus, it was his 

mother in those last hours. Never has sorrow presented itself 
in a form so venerable. Here is a depth of anguish which in- 
spires awe as well as tenderness. The magnificent ‘ Stabat 
Mater,” in which the Church commemorates Mary’s agony, is 
an outburst with which no feeling heart can refuse sympathy. 
We rejoice when again we meet her, after the resurrection, 
in the company of all the faithful, waiting to receive that 
promised illumination of the Holy Spirit which solved every 
mystery and made every doubt clear. 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


In all this history we see the picture of a woman belonging 
to that rare and beautiful class who approach the nearest to 
our ideal of angelic excellence. We see a woman in whom 
the genius and fire of the poet and prophetess is tempered by 
a calm and equable balance of the intellect; a woman not 
only to feel deeply, but to examine calmly and come to just 
results, and to act with energy befitting every occasion. Hers 
are the powers which might, in the providence of God, have 
had a public mission, but they are all concentrated in the 
nobler, yet secret mission of the mother. She lived and acted 
in her son, not in herself. There seems to be evidence that 
both Jesus and his mother had that constitutional delicacy and 
refinement that made solitude and privacy peculiarly dear, and 
the hurry and bustle and inevitable vulgarities of a public ca- 
reer a trial. Mary never seems to have sought to present her- 
self as a public teacher; and in the one instance when she 
sought her son in public, it was from the tremulous anxiety 
of a mother’s affection rather than the self-assertion of a moth- 
er’s pride. In short, Mary is presented to us as the mother, 
and the mother alone, seeking no other sphere. Like a true 
mother she passed out of self into her son, and the life that 
she lived was in him; and in this sacred self-abnegation she 
must forever remain, the one ideal type of perfect motherhood. 

This entire absence of self-seeking and self-assertion is the 
crowning perfection of Mary’s character. The steadiness, the 
silent reticence, with which she held herself subject to God’s 
will, waiting calmly on his Providence, never by a hasty word 
or an imprudent action marring the divine order or seeking to 
place self in the foreground, is an example which we may all 
take reverently to our own bosoms. 

We may not adore, but we may love her. She herself 
would not that we turn from her Son to invoke her; but we 
may tenderly rejoice in the feeling so common in the primi- - 
tive Church, that in drawing near to Jesus we draw near to all 
the holy who were dear to him, and so to her, the most blessed 
among women. We long to know more of this hidden life of 
Mary on earth, but it is a comfort to remember that these 


MARY THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 


splendid souls with whom the Bible makes us acquainted are 
neither dead nor lost. If we ‘hear the Word of God and do 
it,” we may hope some day to rise to the world where we 
shall find them, and ask of them all those untold things which 
our hearts yearn to know. 


21 


cay vas 
oan eet 
ve Wet 


> Tl 
cae r 


+! one acy ? We 
me (es eee ; 


| 


a a INTC aan rme—m = 


THE DAUGHTER OF HERODIAS. 


AWN the great drama of the history of Jesus many subor- 
dinate figures move across the stage, indicated with 
more or less power by the unconscious and artless sim- 
plicity of the narrative. Among these is the daughter 
of Herodias, whose story has often been a favorite subject 
among artists as giving an opportunity of painting female 
beauty and fascination in affinity with the deepest and most 
dreadful tragedy. 

Salome was the daughter of Herodias, who was a woman 
of unbridled passions and corrupt will. This Herodias had 
eloped from her husband Philip, son of Herod the Great, to 
marry her step-uncle, Herod Antipas, who forsook for her his 
lawful wife, the daughter of the king of Arabia. Herod ap- 
pears in the story of the Gospels as a man with just enough 
conscience and aspiration after good to keep him always un- 
easy, but not enough to restrain from evil. 

When the ministry of John powerfully excited the public 
mind, we are told by St. Mark that ‘ Herod feared John, know- 
that he was a just man and holy, and he observed him, and 
when he heard him he did many things and heard him gladly.” 

The Jewish religion strongly cultivated conscience and a 
belief in the rewards and punishments of a future life, and 
the style of John’s preaching was awful and monitory. ‘ Be- 
hold the axe is laid at the root of the tree, and whatsoever 
tree doth not bring forth good fruit shall be hewn down and 
cast into the fire.” There was no indulgence for royal trees; 
no concession to the divine right of kings to do evil. John 
was a prophet in the spirit and power of Elijah; he dwelt in 
the desert, he despised the power and splendor of courts, and 
appeared before kings as God’s messenger, to declare his will 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


and pronounce sentence of wrath on the disobedient. So with- 
out scruple he denounced the adulterous connection of his 
royal hearer, and demanded that Herod should put away the 
guilty woman as the only condition of salvation. Herod re- 
plied, as kings have been in the habit of replying to such 
inconvenient personal application of God’s laws: he shut John 
up in prison. It is said in St. Mark that Herodias had a 
quarrel against him, and would have killed him, but she could 
not. The intensity of a woman’s hatred looks out through 
this chink of the story as the secret exciting power to the 
man’s slower passions. She would have had him killed had 
she been able to have-her way; she can only compass his im- 
prisonment for the present, and she trusts to female importu- 
nities and blandishments to finish the vengeance. The hour 
of opportunity comes. We are told in the record: ‘‘ And when 
a convenient day came, Herod on his birthday made a supper 
to his lords and high captains and chief estates of Galilee.” 

One of the entertainments of the evening was the wonderful 
dancing of Salome, the daughter of his paramour. We have 
heard in the annals of the modern theatre into what inconsid- 
erate transports of rapture crowned heads and chief captains 
and mighty men of valor have been thrown by the dancing 
of some enthroned queen of the ballet; and one does not feel 
it incredible, therefore, that Herod, who appeared to be ner- 
vously susceptible to all kinds of influences, said to the en- 
chantress, ‘‘Ask me whatsoever thou wilt, and I will give it 
thee; and he sware unto her after the pattern of Ahasuerus to 
Esther, saying, Whatsoever thou shalt ask of me I will give it 
thee, to the half of my kingdom.” And now the royal tigress, 
who has arranged this snare and watched the king’s entrance 
into the toils, prepares to draw the noose. Salome goes to 
her mother and says, ‘ What shall I ask?” The answer is 
ready. Herodias said, with perfect explicitness, ‘‘ Ask for the 
head of John the Baptist.” So the graceful creature trips back 
into the glittering court circle, and, bowing her flower-like head, 
says in the sweetest tones, ‘‘Give me here John the Baptist’s 
head in a charger” : 


THH DAUGHTER OF HERODIAS. 


The narrative says very artlessly, “And the king was sorry, 
but for his oath’s sake, and for the sake of them that sat with 
him at meat, he would not refuse her, and immediately the 
king sent an executioner and commanded his head to be 
brought, and he went and beheaded him in prison!” 

What wonderful contrasted types of womanhood the Gospel 
history gives! We see such august and noble forms as Elis- 
abeth, the mother of the Baptist, and Mary, the mother of 
Jesus, alongside of this haughty royal adulteress and her 
beautiful daughter. The good were the lower, and the bad 
the higher class of that day. Vice was enthroned and _tri- 
umphant, while virtue walked obscure by hedges and byways; 
a dancing girl had power to take away the noblest life in 
Judea, next to that which was afterward taken on Calvary. 

No throb of remorse that we know of ever visited these 
women, but of Herod we are told that when afterwards he 
heard of the preaching and mighty works of Jesus, he said, 
“Tt is John the Baptist that I slew. He is risen from the 
dead, therefore mighty works do show forth themselves in 
him.” 

In the last scenes of our Lord’s life we meet again this cred- 
ulous, superstitious, bad man. Pilate, embarrassed by a pris- 
oner who alarmed his fears and whom he was troubled to dis- 
pose of, sent Jesus to Herod. ‘Thus we see the licentious tool 
and slave of a bad woman has successively before his judg- 
ment-seat the two greatest men of his age and of all ages. It 
is said Herod received Jesus gladly, for he had a long time been 
desirous to see him, for he hoped some miracle would be done 
by him. But he was precisely of the class of whom our Lord 
spoke when he said, ‘“‘ An adulterous generation seeketh a sign, 
and there shall no sign be given them.” God has no answer 
to give to wicked, unrepentant curiosity, and though Herod 
questioned Jesus in many words he answered him nothing. 
Then we are told, ‘Herod with his men of war set Jesus at 
naught, and mocked him, and arrayed him in a gorgeous robe, 
and sent him again to Pilate.” And this was how the great 
ones of the earth received their Lord. 


oes ea de es em al cM A a lp lit ay Dan em oye LTE I A ILL ELITR AE OED OA FR T CMr Gaerne etetgn y mphe ae bs a oa oa ee Ae 


+ aE RA Sy ae 


dione 


Re ease 


kart 


ERY SE ARE LS art by aN 


SE yee ieee ie eg at Re Bee 


THE WOMAN OF SAMARIA. 


“SMA E are struck, in the history of our Lord, with the 
GN 0. unworldliness of his manner of living his daily life 
and fulfilling his great commission. It is emphat- 
ically true, in the history of Jesus, that his ways 
are not as our ways, and his thoughts as our thoughts. He 
did not choose the disciples of his first ministry as worldly 
wisdom would have chosen them. Though men of good and 
honest hearts, they were neither the most cultured nor the 
most influential of his nation. We should have said that men 
of the standing of Joseph of Arimathea or Nicodemus were 
preferable, other ‘things being equal, to Peter the fisherman | 
or Matthew the tax-gatherer; but Jesus thought otherwise. 
And furthermore, he sometimes selected those apparently 
most unlikely to further his ends. Thus, when he had a mis- 
sion of mercy in view for Samaria, he called to the work a 
woman; not such as we should suppose a divine teacher 
would choose, —not a pre-eminently intellectual or a very 
good woman,—but, on the contrary, one of a careless life 
and loose morals and little culture. The history of this per- 
son, of the way in which he sought her acquaintance, ar- 
rested her attention, gained access to her heart, and made of 
her a missionary to draw the attention of her people to him, 
is wonderfully given by St. John. We have the image of a 
woman — such as many are, social, good-humored, talkative, and 
utterly without any high moral sense —approaching the well, 
where she sees this weary Jew reclining to rest himself. He 
introduces himself to her acquaintance by asking a favor, — 
the readiest way to open the heart of a woman of that class. 
She is evidently surprised that he will speak to her, being a 
Jew, and she a daughter of a despised and hated race. ‘‘ How 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


is it,” she says, “that thou, a Jew, askest drink of me, a woman 
of Samaria?” Jesus now answers her in that symbolic and 
poetic strain which was familiar with him: “If thou knewest 
the gift of God, and who this is that asketh drink of thee, 
thou wouldst ask of him, and he would give thee living water.” 
The woman sees in this only the occasion for a lively re- 
joinder. ‘Sir, thou hast nothing to draw with, and the well 
is deep; from whence then hast thou that living water?” 
With that same mysterious air, as if speaking unconsciously 
from out some higher sphere, he answers, ‘“ Whosoever drink- 
eth of this water shall thirst again; but whosoever shall drink 
of the water that I shall give, shall never thirst. The water 
that I shall give shall be a well in him springing up to ever- 
lasting life.” 

Impressed strangely by the words of the mysterious stranger, 
she answers confusedly, ‘Sir, give me this water, that I thirst 
not, neither come hither to draw.” There is a feeble attempt 
at a jest struggling with the awe which is growing upon her. 
Jesus now touches the vital spot in her life. ‘Go, call thy 
husband and come hither.” She said, “I have no husband.” 
He answers, “ Well hast thou said I have no husband; thou 
hast had five husbands, and he thou now hast is not thy hus- 
band ; in that saidst thou truly.” 

The stern, grave chastity of the Jew, his reverence for mar-_ 
riage, strike coldly on the light-minded woman accustomed to 
the easy tolerance of a low state of society. She is abashed, 
and hastily seeks to change the subject: “Sir, I see thou art a 
prophet”; and then she introduces the controverted point of the 
two liturgies and temples of Samaria and Jerusalem, — not the 
first nor the last was she of those who seek relief from con- 
science by discussing doctrinal dogmas. Then, to our aston- 
ishment, Jesus proceeds to declare to this woman of light mind 
and loose morality the sublime doctrines of spiritual worship, 
to predict the new era which is dawning on the world: ‘“ Wo- 
man, believe me, the hour cometh when neither in this moun- 
tain nor yet in Jerusalem shall ye worship the Father. The 
hour cometh and now is when the true worshiper shall wor- 


THE WOMAN OF SAMARIA. 


ship the Father in spirit and in truth, for the Father seeketh 
such to worship him. God is a spirit, and they that worship 
him must worship him in spirit and in truth.” Then, in a sort 
of confused awe at his earnestness, the woman says, ‘I know 
that Messiah shall come, and when he is come he will tell us 
all things. Jesus saith unto her, I that speak unto thee am 
he.” 

At this moment the disciples returned. With their national 
prejudices, it was very astonishing, as they drew nigh, to see 
that their master was in close and earnest conversation with a 
Samaritan woman. Nevertheless, when the higher and god- 
like in Jesus was in a state of incandescence, the light and fire 
were such as to awe them. They saw that he was in an ex- 
alted mood, which they dared not question. All the infinite 
love of the Saviour, the shepherd of souls, was awaking within 
him; the soul whom he has inspired with a new and holy call- 
ing is leaving him on a mission that is to bring crowds to his 
love. The disciples pray him to eat, but he is no longer hun- 
ery, no longer thirsty, no longer weary; he exults in the gifts 
that he is ready to give, and the hearts that are opening to 
receive. 

The disciples pray him, ‘“ Master, eat.” He said, “I have 
meat to eat that ye know not of.” They question in an un- 
dertone, ‘‘Hath any one brought him aught to eat?” He 
answers, ‘‘My meat and my drink is to do the will of Him 
that sent me, and to finish his work.” Then, pointing towards 
the city, he speaks impassioned words of a harvest which is 
at hand; and they wonder. 

But meanwhile the woman, with the eagerness and bright, 
social readiness which characterize her, is calling to her towns- 
men, ‘‘Come, see a man that told me all that ever I did. Is 
not this the Christ ?” : 

What followed on this? A crowd press out to see the won- 
der. Jesus is invited as an honored guest; he spends two 
days in the city, and gathers a band of disciples. 

After the resurrection of Jesus, we find further fruits of the 


harvest sown by a chance interview of Jesus with this woman. 
22 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


In the eighth of Acts we read of the ingathering of a church 
in a city of Samaria, where it is said that ‘the people, with 
one accord, gave heed to the things spoken by Philip, and 
there was great joy in that city.” 

One thing in this story impresses us strongly, — the power 
which Jesus had to touch the divinest capabilities in the un- 
likeliest subjects. He struck at once and directly for what was 
highest and noblest in souls where it lay most hidden. As 
physician of souls he appealed directly to the vital moral force, 
and it acted under his touch. He saw the higher nature in 
this woman, and as one might draw a magnet over a heap 
of rubbish and bring out pure metal, so he from this careless, 
light-minded, good-natured, unprincipled creature, brought out 
the suppressed and hidden yearning for a better and higher 
life. She had no prejudices to keep, no station to preserve ; 
she was even to her own low moral sense consciously a sin- 
ner, and she was ready at the kind and powerful appeal to 
leave all and follow him. 

We have no further history of her. She is living now some- 
where; but wherever she may be, we may be quite sure she 
never has forgotten the conversation at the well in Samaria, 
and the man who “told her all that ever she did.” 


can iieter == 
ara 


ma 


ee tse 


ee ae = es Ss | lee le ee ee 


a 


> 


eT 


w WY 
7 


MARY MAGDALENE. 


NE of the most splendid ornaments of the Dresden 

Gallery is the Magdalen of Batoni. The subject has 
| been a favorite among artists, and one sees, in a 
tour of the various collections of Europe, Magdalens 
by every painter, in every conceivable style. By far the 
greater part of them deal only with the material aspects of 
the subject. The exquisite pathos of the story, the passionate 
anguish and despair of the penitent, the refinement and dignity 
of Divine tenderness, are often lost sight of in mere physical 
accessories. Many artists seem to have seen in the subject 
only a chance to paint a voluptuously beautiful woman in 
tears. Titian appears to have felt in this wonderful story 
nothing but the beauty of the woman’s hai, and gives us a 
picture of the most glorious tresses that heart could conceive, 
perfectly veiling and clothing a very common-place weeping 
woman. Correggio made of the study only a charming effect 
of light and shade and color. A fat, pretty, comfortable little 
body lying on the ground reading, is about the whole that he 
sees in the subject. 

Batoni, on the contrary, seems, by some strange inspiration, 
to set before us one of the highest, noblest class of women, — 
a creature so calm, so high, so pure, that we ask involuntarily, 
How. could such a woman ever have fallen? The answer is 
ready. ‘There is a class of women who fall through what is 
highest in them, through the noblest capability of a human 
being, — utter self-sacrificing love. ‘True, we cannot flatter our- 
selves that these instances are universal, but they do exist. 
Many women fall through the weakness of self-indulgent pas- 
sion, many from love of luxury, many from vanity and pride, 
too many from the mere coercion of hard necessity ; but among 
the sad, unblest crowd there is a class who are the victims of 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


a power of self-forgetting love, which is one of the most an- 
gelic capabilities of our nature. 

We have shown all along that in the dispensation which 
prepared the way for the great Messiah and the Christian Era, 
woman was especially cared for. In all that pertained to the 
spiritual and immortal nature she was placed on an equality 
with man, — she could be the vehicle of the prophetic inspira- 
tion; as mother she was equally with man enthroned queen 
of the family; and her sins against chastity were treated pre- 
cisely as those of man, —as the sin, not of sex, but of a per- 
sonal moral agent. 

The Christian Era, unfolding out of the Mosaic like a rare 
flower from a carefully cultured stock, brought, in a still higher 
degree, salvation to woman. The son of Mary was the pro- 
tector of woman, and one of the earliest and most decided 
steps in his ministry was his practical and authoritative asser- 
tion of the principle, that fallen woman is as capable of res- 
toration through penitence as fallen man, and that repentance 
should do for a fallen woman whatever it might do for fallen 
man. 

The history of the woman taken in adultery shows how com- 
pletely that spirit of injustice to woman, which still shows itself 
in our modern life, had taken possession of the Jewish aris- 
tocracy. We hear no word of the guilty man who was her 
partner in crime; we see around Jesus a crowd clamoring for 
the deadly sentence of the Mosaic law on the woman. Jesus, 
by one lightning stroke of penetrative omniscience, rouses the 
dead sense of shame in the accusers, and sends them humbled 
from his presence, while the sinful woman is saved for a bet- 
ter future. 

The absolute divinity of Jesus, the height at which he stood 
above all men, is nowhere so shown as in what he dared and 
did for woman, and the godlike consciousness of power with 
which he did it. It was at a critical period in his ministry, 
when all eyes were fixed on him in keen inquiry, when many 
of the respectable classes were yet trembling in the balance 
whether to accept his claims or no, that Jesus in the calmest 
and most majestic manner took ground that the sins of a fallen 


MARY MAGDALENE. 


woman were like any other sins, and that repentant love en- 
titled to equal forgiveness. The story so wonderful can be 
told only in the words of the sacred narrative. 

“And one of the Pharisees desired him that he would eat 
with him, and he went into the Pharisee’s house and sat down 
to meat. And behold a woman in that city which was a sin- 
ner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee’s 
house, brought an alabaster box of ointment, and stood at his 
feet behind him, weeping, and began to wash his feet with 
tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and 
kissed his feet and anointed them with the oimtment. Now 
when the Pharisee which had bidden him saw it, he spake 
within himself, saying, This man, if he were a prophet, would 
have known who and what manner of woman this is, for she 
is a sinner. And Jesus answering said unto him, Simon, I 
have somewhat to say unto thee. He said unto him, Master, 
say on. There was a certain creditor had two debtors; the 
one owed him five hundred pence and the other fifty, and 
when they had nothing to pay he frankly forgave them both. 
Tell me, therefore, which will love him most. Simon an- 
swered and said, I suppose he to whom he forgave most. 
And he said unto him, Thou hast rightly judged. And he 
turned to the woman and said unto Simon, Seest thou this 
woman. I entered into thy house and thou gavest me no 
water for my feet, but she hath washed my feet with tears 
and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Thou gavest 
me no kiss, but this woman, since the time I came in, hath 
not ceased to kiss my feet. My head with oil thou didst not 
anoint, but she hath anointed my feet with ointment. Where- 
fore, I say unto you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven 
her, for she loved much; but to whom little is forgiven the 
same loveth little. And he said unto her, Thy sins are for- 
given. And they that sat at meat began to say within them- 
selves, Who is this that forgiveth sins also? And he said to 
the woman, Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace.” 

Nothing can be added to the pathos and solemn dignity of 
this story, in which our Lord assumed with tranquil majesty 
the rights to supreme love possessed by the Creator, and his 


a 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


soverelon power to forgive sins and dispense favors. The re- 
pentant Magdalene became henceforth one of the characteristic 
figures in the history of the Christian Church. Mary Magda- 
lene became eventually a prominent figure in the mythic 
legends of the medizval mythology. <A long history of mis- 
sionary labors and enthusiastic preaching of the ‘gospel in dis- 
tant regions of the earth is ascribed to her. Churches arose 
that bore her name, hymns were addressed to her. Even the 
reforming Savonarola addresses one of his spiritual canticles to 
St. Mary Magdalene. The various pictures of her which occur 
in every part of Europe are a proof of the interest which these 
legends inspired. ‘The most of them are wild and poetic, and 
exhibit a striking contrast to the concise brevity and simplicity 
of the New Testament story. 

The mythic legends make up a romance in which Mary the 
sister of Martha and Mary Magdalene the sinner are oddly 
considered as the same person. It is sufficient to read the 
chapter in St. John which gives an account of the raising of 
Lazarus, to perceive that such a confusion is absurd. Mary and 
Martha there appear as belonging to a family in good stand- 
ing, to which many flocked with expressions of condolence 
and respect in time of affliction. And afterwards, in that 
orateful feast made for the restoration of their brother, we . 
read that so many flocked to the house that the jealousy of 
the chief priests was excited. All these incidents, representing a 
family of respectability, are entirely inconsistent with any such 
supposition. But while we repudiate this extravagance of the 
tradition, there does seem ground for identifying the Mary 
Maedalene, who was one of the most devoted followers of our 
Lord, with the forgiven sinner of this narrative. We read of 
a company of women who followed Jesus and ministered to 
him. In the eighth chapter of Luke he is said to be accom- 
panied by “certain women which had been healed of evil 
spirits and infirmities,’ among whom is mentioned ‘“ Mary 
called Magdalene,” as having been a victim of demoniacal 
possession. Some women of rank and fortune also are men- 
tioned as members of the same company: “Joanna the wife 
of Chusa, Herod’s steward, and Susanna, and many others 


MARY MAGDALENE. 


who ministered to him of their substance.” A modern com- 
mentator thinks it improbable that Mary Magdalene could be 
identified with the “sinner” spoken of by St. Luke, because 
women of standing like Joanna and Susanna would not have 
received one of her class to their company. We ask why not? 
If Jesus had received her, had forgiven and saved her; if he 
acknowledged previously her grateful ministrations, — is it 
likely that they would reject her? It was the very peculiarity 
and glory of the new kingdom that it had a better future for 
sinners, and for sinful woman as well as sinful man. Jesus 
did not hesitate to say to the proud and prejudiced religious 
aristocracy of his day, ‘‘The publicans and harlots go into 
the kingdom of heaven before you.” We cannot doubt that 
the loving Christian women who ministered to Jesus received 
this penitent sister as a soul absolved and purified by the 
sovereign word of their Lord, and henceforth there was for 
her a full scope for that ardent, self-devoting power of her 
nature which had been her ruin, and was now to become her 
salvation. 

Some commentators seem to think that the dreadful demo- 
niacal possession which was spoken of in Mary Magdalene 
proves her not to have been identical with the woman of 
St. Luke. But on the contrary, it would seem exactly to ac- 
count for actions of a strange and unaccountable wickedness, 
for a notoriety in crime that went far to lead the Pharisees to 
feel that her very touch was pollution. The story is symbolic 
of what is too often seen in the fall of woman. A noble and 
beautiful nature wrecked through inconsiderate prodigality of 
love, deceived, betrayed, ruined, often drifts like a shipwrecked 
bark into the power of evil spirits. Rage, despair, revenge, 
cruelty, take possession of the crushed ruin that should have 
been the home of the sweetest affections. We are not told 
when or where the healing word was spoken that drove the 
cruel fiends from Mary’s soul. Perhaps before she entered the 
halls of the Pharisee, while listening to the preaching of Jesus, 
the madness and despair had left her. We can believe that 
in his higher moods virtue went from him, and there was around 
him a holy and cleansing atmosphere from which all evil fled 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 
away, —a serene and healing purity which calmed the throb- 
bing fever of passion and gave the soul once more the image 
of its better self. 

We see in the manner in which tins found her way to the 
feet of Jesus the directness and vehemence, the uncalculating 
self-sacrifice and self-abandon, of one of those natures which, 
when they move, move with a rush of undivided impulse; 
which, when they love, trust all, believe all, and are ready to 
sacrifice all. As once she had lost herself in this self-abandon- 
ment, so now at the feet of her God she gains all by the same 
power of self-surrender. 

We do not meet Mary Magdalene again till we find her at 
the foot of the cross, sharing the last anguish of our Lord 
and his mother. We find her watching the sepulcher, prepar- 
ing sweet spices for embalming. In the dim gray of the res- 
urrection morning she is there again, only to find the sepulcher 
open and the beloved form gone. Everything in this last 
scene is in consistency with the idea of the passionate self-de- 
votion of a nature whose sole life is in its love. The disciples, 
when they found not the body, went away; but Mary stood 
without at the sepulcher weeping, and as she wept she stooped 
down and looked into the sepulcher. The angels said to her, 
‘Woman, why weepest thou? She answered, Because they 
have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they. 
have laid him.” She then turns and sees through her tears 
dimly the form of a man standing there. “Jesus saith unto 
her, Woman, why weepest thou? whom seekest thou? She, 
supposing him to be the gardener, saith unto him, Sir, if 
thou have borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid 
him, and I will go and take him away. Jesus saith unto 
her, Mary! She turned herself and said unto him, Rabboni, — 
Master ! ” 

In all this we see the characteristic devotion and energy of 
her who loved much because she was forgiven much. It was the 
peculiarity of Jesus that he saw the precious capability of every 
nature, even in the very dust of defilement. The power of de- 
voted love is the crown-jewel of the soul, and Jesus had the eye 
to see where it lay trampled in the mire, and the strong hand to 


MARY MAGDALENE. 


bring it forth purified and brightened. It is the deepest malig- 
nity of Satan to degrade and ruin souls through love. It is the 
elory of Christ, through love, to redeem and restore. 

In the history of Christ as a teacher, it is remarkable, that, 
while he was an object of enthusiastic devotion to so many 
women, while a band of them followed his preaching and min- 
istered to his wants and those of his disciples, yet there was 
about him something so entirely unworldly, so sacredly high 
and pure, that even the very suggestion of scandal in this re- 
gard is not to be found in the bitterest vituperations of his 
enemies of the first two centuries. 

If we compare Jesus with Socrates, the moral teacher most 
frequently spoken of as approaching him, we shall see a won- 
derful contrast. Socrates associated with courtesans, without 
passion and without reproof, in a spirit of half-sarcastic, phil- 
osophic tolerance. No quickening of the soul of woman, no 
call to a higher life, came from him. Jesus is stern and grave 
in his teachings of personal purity, severe in his requirements. 
He was as intolerant to sin as he was merciful to penitence. 
He did not extenuate the sins he forgave. He declared the 
sins of Mary to be many, in the same breath that he pronounced 
her pardon. He said to the adulterous woman whom he pro- 
tected, “Go, sin no more.” The penitents who joined the 
company of his disciples were so raised above their former 
selves, that, instead of being the shame, they were the glory 
of the new kingdom. St. Paul says to the first Christians, 
speaking of the adulterous and impure, ‘Such were some of 
you, but ye are washed, but ye are sanctified, but ye are 
justified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of 
God.” 

The tradition of the Church that Mary Magdalene was an 
enthusiastic preacher of Jesus seems in keeping with all we 
know of the strength and fervor of her character. Such love 
must find expression, and we are told that when the first per- 
secution scattered the little church at Jerusalem, ‘they that 
were scattered went everywhere, preaching the word.” Some 
of the most effective preaching of Christ is that of those who » 


testify in their own person of a great salvation. “He can 
23 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


save to the uttermost, for he has saved mn,” is a testimony 
that often goes more straight to the heart than all the argu- 
ments of learning. Christianity had this peculiarity over all 
other systems, that it not only forgave the past, but made 
of its bitter experiences a healing medicine; so that those who 
had sinned deepest might have therefrom a greater redeeming 
power. ‘‘ When thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren,” 
was the watchword of the penitent. 

The wonderful mind of Goethe has seized upon and em- 
bodied this peculiarity of Christianity in his great poem of 
Faust. The first part shows the Devil making of the sweet- 
est and noblest affection of the confidmg Margaret a cruel 
poison to corrupt both body and soul. We see her driven to 
crime, remorse, shame, despair, —all human forms and forces 
of society united to condemn her, when with a last cry she 
stretches her poor hands to heaven and says, ‘Judgment of 
God, I commend myself to you”; and then falls a voice from 
heaven, ‘‘She is judged; she is saved.” 

In the second part we see the world-worn, weary Faust 
passing through the classic mythology, vainly seeking rest and 
finding none; he seeks rest in a life of benevolence to man, 
but fiends of darkness conflict with his best aspirations, and 
dog his steps through life, and in his dying hour gather 
round to seize his soul and carry it to perdition. But around 
him is a shining band. Mary the mother of Jesus, with a 
company of purified penitents, encircle him, and his soul 
passes, in infantine weakness, to the guardian arms of Mar- 
garet,—once a lost and ruined woman, now a strong and piti- 
ful angel, —who, like a tender mother, leads the new-born soul 
to look upon the glories of heaven, while angel-voices sing 
of the victory of good over evil: — 

“ All that is transient 
Is but a parable ; 
The unattainable 
Here is made real. 
The indescribable 
Here is accomplished ; 


The eternal womanly 
Draws us upward and onward.” 


: 


See Pie 


7 id 5 


MARTHA AND MARY. 


HE dramatic power of the brief Bible narratives is 
one of their most wonderful characteristics. By a 
few incidents, a word here and there, they create a 
vivid image of a personality that afterwards never 

dies from our memory. The women of Shakespeare have been 
set upon the stage with all the accessories of dress, scenery, 

and the interpreting power of fine acting, and yet the vivid- 
ness of their personality has not been equal to that of the women 
of the Bible. 

Mary and Martha, the two sisters of Bethany, have had for 
ages a name and a living power in the Church. Thousands 
of hearts have throbbed with theirs; thousands have wept sym- 
pathetic tears in their sorrows and rejoiced in their joy. By a 
few simple touches in the narrative they are so delicately and 
justly discriminated that they stand for the representatives of 
two distinct classes. Some of the ancient Christian writers 
considered them as types of the active and the contemplative 
aspects of religion. Martha is viewed as the secular Christian, 
serving God in and through the channels of worldly business, 
and Mary as the more peculiarly religious person, devoted to 
a life of holy meditation and the researches of heavenly truth. 
The two were equally the friends of Jesus. Apparently, the 
two sisters with one brother were an orphan family, united by 
the strongest mutual affection, and affording a circle peculiarly 
congenial to the Master. 

They inhabited a rural home just outside of Jerusalem ; 
and it seems that here, after the labors of a day spent in 
teaching in the city, our Lord found at evening a home-like 
retreat where he could enjoy perfect quiet and perfect love. 
It would seem, from many touches in the Gospel narrative, as 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


if Jesus, amid the labors and applauses and successes of a 
public life, yearned for privacy and domesticity, —for that 
home love which he persistently renounced, to give himself 
wholly to mankind. There is a shade of pathos in his answer 
to one who proposed to be his disciple and dwell with him: 
‘Boxes have holes; the birds of the air have nests; but the 
Son of Man hath not where to lay his head.” This little or- 
phan circle, with their quiet home, were thus especially dear 
to him, and it appears that this was his refuge during that last 
week of his life, when he knew that every day was bringing 
him nearer to the final anguish. 

It is wonderful how sharply and truly, in a narrative so 
brief, the characters of Martha and Mary are individualized. 
Martha, in her Judean dress and surroundings, is, after all, 
exactly such a good woman as is often seen in our modern 
life, —a woman primarily endowed with the faculties necessary 
for getting on in the world, yet sincerely religious. She is 
energetic, business-like, matter-of-fact, strictly orthodox, and 
always ready for every emergency. She lives in the present 
life strongly and intensely, and her religion exhibits itself 
through regular forms and agencies. She believes in the future 
life orthodoxly, and is always prompt to confess its superior 
importance as a matter of doctrine, though prone to make 
material things the first in practice. Many such women there 
are in the high places of the Christian Church, and much 
good they do. They manage fairs, they dress churches, they 
get up religious festivals, their names are on committees, they 
are known at celebrations. They rule their own homes with 
activity and diligence, and they are justly honored by all who 
know them. Now, nothing is more remarkable in the history 
of Jesus than the catholicity of his appreciation of character. 
He never found fault with natural organization, or expected 
all people to be of one pattern. He did not break with 
Thomas for being naturally a cautious doubter, or Peter for 
being a precipitate believer; and it is specially recorded in 
the history of this family that Jesus loved Martha. He un- 
derstood her, he appreciated her worth, and he loved her. 


MARTHA AND MARY. 


In Mary we see the type of those deeper and more sensi- 
tive natures who ever aspire above and beyond the material 
and temporal to the eternal and divine; souls that are seeking 
and inquiring with a restlessness that no earthly thing can 
satisfy, who can find no peace until they find it in union with 
God. 

In St. Luke we have a record of the manner in which the 
first acquaintance with this family was formed. This historian 
says: ‘“A woman named Martha received him at her house.” 
Evidently the decisive and salient power of her nature caused 
her to be regarded as mistress of the family. There was a 
esrown-up brother in the family; but this house is not called 
the house of Lazarus, but the house of Martha,—a form of 
speaking the more remarkable from the great superiority or 
leadership which ancient customs awarded to the male sex. 
But Martha was one of those natural leaders whom everybody 
instinctively thinks of as the head of any house they may 
happen to belong to. Her tone toward Mary is authoritative. 
The Mary-nature is a nature apt to appear to disadvantage in 
physical things. It is often puzzled, and unskilled, and un- 
ready in the details and emergencies of a life like ours, which 
so little meets its deepest feelings and most importunate wants.. 
It acquires skill in earthly things only as a matter of disci- 
pline and conscience, but is always yearning above them to 
something higher and divine. <A delicacy of moral nature sug- 
gests to such a person a thousand scruples of conscientious 
inquiry in every turn of life, which embarrass directness of 
action. To the Martha-nature, practical, direct, and prosaic, 
all these doubts, scruples, hesitations, and unreadinesses appear 
only as pitiable weaknesses. 

Again, Martha’s nature attaches a vast importance to many 
things which, in the view of Mary, are so fleeting and perish- 
able, and have so little to do with the deeper immortal wants 
of the soul, that it is difficult for her even to remember and 
keep them in sight. The requirements of etiquette, the changes 
and details of fashion, the thousand particulars which pertain 
to keeping up a certain footing in society and a certain posi- 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


tion in the world, — all these Martha has at her fingers’ ends. 
They are the breath of her nostrils, while Mary is always for- 
getting, overlooking, and transgressing them. Many a Mary 
has escaped into a convent, or joined a sisterhood, or worn 
the plain dress of the Quaker, in order that she might escape 
from the exaction of the Marthas of her day, ‘ careful [or, 
more literally, full of care] and troubled about many things.” 

It appears that in her way Martha was a religious woman, 
a sincere member of the Jewish Church, and an intense be- 
liever. The preaching of Christ was the great religious phe- 
nomenon of the times, and Martha, Mary, and Lazarus joined 
the crowd who witnessed his miracles and listened to his 
words. Both women accepted his message and believed his 
Messiahship, — Martha, from the witness of his splendid mir- 
acles; Mary, from the deep accord of her heart with the won- 
derful words he had uttered. To Martha he was the King 
that should reign in splendor at Jerusalem, and raise their na- 
tion to an untold height of glory; to Mary he was the answer 
to the eternal question, —the Way, the Truth, the Life, for 
_ which she had been always longing. 

Among many who urge and press hospitality, Martha’s in- 
vitation prevails. A proud home is that, when Jesus follows 
her, —her prize, her captive. The woman in our day who 
has captured in her net of hospitalities the orator, the poet, 
the warrior, —the star of all eyes, the central point of all 
curiosity, desire, and regard,—can best appreciate Martha’s 
joy. She will make an entertainment that will do credit to 
the occasion. She revolves prodigies of hospitality. She in- 
vites guests to whom her acquisition shall be duly exhibited, 
and all is hurry, bustle, and commotion. But Mary follows 
him, silent, with a fluttermg heart. His teaching has aroused 
the divine longing, the immortal pain, to a throbbing intensity ; 
a sweet presentiment fills her soul, that she is near One through 
whom the way into the Holiest is open, and now is the hour. 
She neither hears nor sees the bustle of preparation; but 
apart, where the Master has seated himself, she sits down at 
his feet, and her eyes, more than her voice, address to him 


MARTHA AND MARY. 


that question and that prayer which are the question and the 
one great reality of all this fleeting, mortal life. 

The question is answered; the prayer is granted. At his 
feet she becomes spiritually clairvoyant. The way to God be- 
comes clear and open. Her soul springs toward the light; is 
embraced by the peace of God, that passeth understanding. 
It is a soul-crisis, and the Master sees that in that hour his 
breath has unfolded into blossom buds that had been struggling 
in darkness. Mary has received in her bosom the ‘ white 
stone with the new name, which no man knoweth save him 
that receiveth it,” and of which Jesus only is the giver. As 
Master and disciple sit in that calm and sweet accord, in 
which giver and receiver are alike blessed, suddenly Martha 
appears and breaks into the interview, in a characteristically 
imperative sentence: “‘ Lord, dost thou not care that my sister 
hath left me to serve alone? Bid her, therefore, that she 
help me.” 

Nothing could more energetically indicate Martha’s character 
than this sentence. It shows her blunt sincerity, her conscien- 
tious, matter-of-fact worldliness, and her dictatorial positiveness. 
Evidently, here is a person accustomed to having her own 
way and bearing down all about her; a person who believes 
in herself without a doubt, and is so positive that her way is 
the only right one that she cannot but be amazed that the 
Master has not at once seen as she does. ‘To be sure, this is 
in her view the Christ, the Son of God, the King of Israel, 
the human being whom in her deepest heart she reverences ; 
but no matter, she is so positive that she is right that she 
does not hesitate to say her say, and make her complaint of 
him as well as of her sister. People like Martha often arraign 
and question the very Providence of God itself when it stands 
in the way of their own plans. Martha is sure of her ground. 
Here is the Messiah, the King of Israel, at her house, and she 
is getting up an entertainment worthy of him, slaving herself 
to death for him, and he takes no notice, and most inconsid- 
erately allows her dreamy sister to sit listening to him, instead 
of joining in the preparation. 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


The reply of Jesus went, as his replies were wont to do, 
to the very root-fault of Martha’s life, the fault of all such 
natures: ‘‘ Martha, Martha! thou art careful and troubled 
about many things, but one thing is needful, and Mary hath 
chosen that good part which shall not be taken from her.” 
The Master's words evidently recognize that in that critical 
hour Mary had passed a boundary in her soul history, and 
made an attainment of priceless value. She had gained some- 
thing that could never be taken from her; and she had gained 
it by that single-hearted devotion to spiritual things which 
made her prompt to know and seize the hour of opportunity. 

The brief narrative there intermits; we are not told how 
Martha replied, or what are the results of this plain, tender 
faithfulness of reproof. The Saviour, be it observed, did not 
blame Martha for her nature. He did not blame her for not 
being Mary; but he did blame her for not restraining and 
eoverning her own nature and keeping it in due subjection to 
higher considerations. A being of brighter worlds, he stood 
looking on Martha’s life,—on her activities and bustle and 
care; and to him how. sorrowfully worthless the greater part 
of them appeared! To him they were mere toys and play- 
things, such as a child is allowed to play with in the earlier, 
undeveloped hours of existence; not to be harshly condemned, 
but still utterly fleeting and worthless in the face of the tre- — 
mendous eternal realities, the glories and the dangers of the 
eternal state. 

It must be said here that all we know of our Lord leads 
us to feel that he was not encouraging and defending in Mary 
a selfish, sentimental indulgence in her own cherished emotions 
and affections, leaving the burden of necessary care on a sister 
who would have been equally glad to sit at Jesus’s feet. That 
was not his reading of the situation. It was that Martha, en- 
grossed in a thousand cares, burdened herself with a weight 
of perplexities of which there was no need, and found no 
time and had no heart to come to him and speak of the only, 
the one thing that endures beyond the present world. To how 
many hearts does this reproof apply? How many who call 


MARTHA AND MARY. 


themselves Christians are weary, wasted, worn, drained of life, 
injured in health, fretted in temper, by a class of anxieties so 
purely worldly that they can never bring them to Jesus, or 
if they do, would meet first and foremost his tender reproof, 
“Thou art careful and troubled about many things; there is 
but one thing really needful. Seek that good part which shall 
never be taken away.” 

What fruit this rebuke bore will appear as we further pur- 
sue the history of the sister. The subsequent story shows 
that Martha was a brave, sincere, good woman, capable of 
yielding to reproof and acknowledging a fault. There is pre- 
cious material in such, if only their powers be turned to the 
highest and best things. 

It is an interesting thought that the human affection of Jesus 
for one family has been made the means of leaving on record 
the most consoling experience for the sorrows of bereavement 
that sacred literature affords. Viewed merely on the natural 
side, the intensity of human affections and the frightful possi- 
bilities of suffering involved in their very sweetness present a 
fearful prospect when compared with that stony inflexibility 
of natural law, which goes forth crushing, bruising, lacerating, 
without the least apparent feeling for human agony. 

The God of nature appears silent, unalterable, unsympa- 
thetic, pursuing general good without a throb of pity for indi- 
vidual suffering; and that suffering is so unspeakable, so 
terrible! Close shadowing every bridal, every cradle, is this 
awful possibility of death that may come at any moment, un- 
announced and inevitable. The joy of this hour may become 
the bitterness of the next; the ring, the curl of hair, the 
locket, the picture, that to-day are a treasure of hope and 
happiness, to-morrow may be only weapons of bitterness that 
stab at every view. The silent inflexibility of God in uphold- 
ing laws that work out such terrible agonies and suffering is 
something against which the human heart moans and chates 
through all ancient literature. ‘The gods envy the happy,” 
was the construction put upon the problem of life as the old 


sages viewed it. 
24 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


But in this second scene of the story of the sisters of Beth- 
any we have that view of God which is the only one powerful 
enough to soothe and control the despair of the stricken heart. 
It says to us that behind this seeming inflexibility, this mighty 
and most needful upholding of law, is a throbbing, sympathiz- 
ing heart, — bearing with us the sorrow of this struggling period 
of existence, and pointing to a perfect fulfillment in the future. 

The story opens most remarkably. In the absence of the 
Master, the brother is stricken down with deadly disease. 
Forthwith a hasty messenger is dispatched to Jesus. ‘ Lord, 
he whom thou lovest is sick.” Here is no prayer expressed ; 
but human language could not be more full of all the elements 
of the best kind of prayer. It is the prayer of perfect trust, — 
the prayer of love that has no shadow of doubt. If only we 
Jet Jesus know we are in trouble, we are helped. We need 
not ask, we need only say, ‘‘He whom thou lovest is sick,” 
and he will understand, and the work will be done. We are 
safe with him. 

Then comes the seeming contradiction — the trial of faith — 
that gives this story such a value: ‘‘Now Jesus loved Martha 
and her sister and Lazarus. When, therefore, he heard that 
he was sick, he abode two days in the same place where he 
was.” Because he loved them, he delayed; because he loved 
them, he resisted that most touching appeal that heart can 
make, — the appeal of utter trust. We can imagine the won- 
der, the anguish, the conflict of spirit, when death at last shut 
the door in the face of their prayers. Had God forgotten to 
be gracious? Had he in anger shut up his tender mercy? 
Did not Jesus love them? Had he not power to heal? Why 
then had he suffered this? Ah! this is exactly the strait in 
which thousands of Christ’s own beloved ones must stand in 
the future; and Mary and Martha, unconsciously to them- 
selves, were suffering with Christ in the great work of human 
consolation. Their distress and anguish and sorrow were neces- 
sary to work out a great experience of God’s love, where 
multitudes of anguished hearts have laid themselves down as 
on a pillow of repose, and have been comforted. 


MARTHA AND MARY. 


Something of this is shadowed in the Master’s words: ‘ This 
sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, — that 
the Son of God might be glorified thereby.” What was that 
glory of God? Not most his natural power, but his sym- 
pathetic tenderness, his loving heart. What is the glory of the 
Son of God? Not the mere display of power, but power used 
to console, in manifesting to the world that this cruel death — 
the shadow that haunts all human life, that appalls and_terri- 
fies, that scatters anguish and despair —is not death, but the 
gateway of a brighter life, in which Jesus shall restore love 
to love, in eternal reunion. 

In the scene with the sisters before the Saviour arrives, we 
are struck with the consideration in which the family is held. 
This house is thronged with sympathizing friends, and, as ap- 
pears from some incidents afterwards, friends among the higher 
classes of the nation. Martha hears of the approach of Jesus, 
and goes forth to meet him. 

In all the scene which follows we are impressed with the 
dignity and worth of Martha’s character. We see in the scene 
of sorrow that Martha has been the strong, practical woman, 
on whom all rely in the hour of sickness, and whose energy 
is equal to any emergency. We see her unsubdued by emo- 
tion, ready to go forth to receive Jesus, and prompt to meet 
the issues of the moment. We see, too, that the appreciation 
of the worth of her character, which had led him to admonish 
her against the materialistic tendencies of such a nature, was 
justified by the fruits of that rebuke. Martha had grown 
more spiritual by intercourse with the Master, and as she falls 
at Jesus’s feet, the half-complaint which her sorrow wrings 
from her is here merged in the expression of her faith: 
“Lord, if thou hadst been here my brother had not died; but 
I know that even now, whatsoever thou wilt ask of God, God 
will give it to thee. Jesus saith unto her, Thy brother shall 
rise again.” Like every well-trained religious Jew of her day, 
Martha was versed in the doctrine of the general resurrection. 
That this belief was a more actively operating motive with 
the ancient Jewish than with the modern Christian Church of 


WOMAN IN SACKED HISTORY. 


our day, is attested by the affecting history of the martyrdom 
of the mother and her seven sons in the Book of Maccabees. 
Martha therefore makes prompt answer, ‘‘I know that he shall 
rise again in the resurrection at the last day.” Jesus answered 
her in words which no mere mortal could have uttered, — 
words of a divine fullness of meaning, — ‘I am the Resurrec- 
tion and the Life: he that believeth in me, though dead, shall 
live, and whosoever believeth in me is immortal.” 

In these words he claims to be the great source of Life, — 
the absolute Lord and Controller of all that relates to life, 
death, and eternity; and he makes the appeal to Martha’s 
faith: ‘ Believest thou this?” ‘‘ Yea, Lord,” she responds, ‘I 
believe thou art the Christ of God that should come into the 
world.” And then she runs and calls her sister secretly, say- 
ing, ““The Master is come and calleth for thee.” As a majes- 
tic symphony modulates into a tender and pathetic minor 
passage, so the tone of the narrative here changes to the most 
exquisite pathos. Mary, attended by her weeping friends, 
comes and falls at Jesus’s feet, and sobs out: “ Lord, if thou 
hadst been here my brother had not died!” 

It indicates the delicate sense of character which ever marked 
the intercourse of our Lord, that to this helpless, heart-broken 
child prostrate at his feet he addresses no appeal to reason or 
faith. He felt within himself the overwhelming power of that 
tide of emotion which for the time bore down both reason and 
faith in helpless anguish. With such sorrow there was no 
arguing, and Jesus did not attempt argument; for the story 
goes on: “When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews also 
weeping that came with her, he groaned in spirit and was 
troubled; and he said, Where have ye laid him? And they 
said, Lord, come and see. Jesus wept.” Those tears inter- 
preted for all time God’s silence and apparent indifference to 
human suffering; and wherever Christ is worshiped as the 
brightness of the Father’s glory and the express image of his 
person, they bear witness that the God who upholds the laws 
that wound and divide human affections still feels with us the 
sorrow which he permits. ‘In all our afflictions he is afflicted.” 


MARTHA AND MARY. 


And now came the sublime and solemn scene when he who 
had claimed to be Resurrection and Life made good his claim. 
Standing by the grave he called, as he shall one day call to 
all the dead: ‘ Lazarus, come forth!” And here the curtain 
drops over the scene of restoration. 

We do not see this family circle again till just before the 
final scene of the great tragedy of Christ’s life. The hour was 
at hand, of suffering, betrayal, rejection, denial, shame, agony, 
and death; and with the shadow of this awful cloud over his 
mind, Jesus comes for the last time to Jerusalem. To the eye 
of the thoughtless, Jesus was never so popular, so beloved, as 
at the moment when he entered the last week of his life at 
Jerusalem. Palm branches and flowers strewed his way, ho- 
sannas greeted him on every side, and the chief-priests and 
scribes said, ‘‘ Perceive ye how ye prevail nothing? Behold 
the world is gone after him!” But the mind of Jesus was 
wrapped in that awful shade of the events that were so soon 
to follow. 

He passes out, after his first day in Jerusalem, to Bethany, 
and takes refuge in this dear circle. There they make him a 
feast, and Martha served, but Lazarus, as a restored treasure, 
sits at the table. Then took Mary a pound of ointment, very 
precious, and anointed the head of Jesus, and anointed his 
feet with the ointment, and wiped them with her hair. 

There is something in the action that marks the poetic and 
sensitive nature of Mary. Her heart was overburdened with 
gratitude and love. She longed to give something, and how 
little was there that she could give! She buys the most rare, 
the most costly of perfumes, breaks the vase, and sheds it 
upon his head. Could she have put her whole life, her whole 
existence, into that fleeting perfume and poured it out for him, 
she gladly would have done it. That was what the action 
said, and what Jesus understood. Forthwith comes the criti- 
cism of Judas: ‘‘ What a waste! It were better to give the 
money to the poor than to expend it in mere sentimentalism.” 
Jesus defended her with all the warmth of his nature, in words 
tinged with the presentiment of his approaching doom: ‘“ Let 


WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY. 


her alone; she is come aforehand to anoint my body for the 
burial.” Then, as if deeply touched with the reality of that 
love which thus devoted itself to him, he adds, ‘‘ Wheresoever 
this Gospel shall be preached throughout the world, there shall 
what this woman hath done be had in remembrance.” ‘The value 
set upon pure love, upon that unconsidering devotion which 
gives its best and utmost freely and wholly, is expressed in 
these words. A loving God seeks love; and he who thus 
spoke is he who afterward, when he appeared in glory, de- 
clared his abhorrence of lukewarmness in his followers: ‘“ I 
would thou wert cold or hot; because thou art lukewarm I 
will spew thee out of my mouth.” It is significant of the 
change which had passed upon Martha that no criticism of 
Mary’s action in this case came from her. There might have 
been a time when this inconsiderate devotion of a poetic nature 
would have annoyed her and called out remonstrance. In her 
silence we feel a sympathetic acquieseence. 

After this scene we meet the family no more. Doubtless the 
three were among the early watchers upon the resurrection . 
-morning ;— doubtless they were of the number among whom 
Jesus stood after the resurrection, saying, ‘‘ Peace be unto 
you”; —doubtless they were of those who went out with him 
to the Mount of Olives when he was taken up into heaven; 
and doubtless they are now with him in glory: for it is an 
affecting thought that no human personality is ever lost or to 
be lost. In the future ages it may be our happiness to see 
and know those whose history has touched our hearts so 
deeply. 

One lesson from this.history we pray may be taken into 
every mourning heart. The Apostle says that Jesus upholds 
all things by the word of his power. The laws by which ac- 
cident, sickness, loss, and death are constantly bringing despair 
and sorrow to sensitive hearts, are upheld by that same Jesus 
who wept at the grave of Lazarus, and who is declared to be 
Jesus Christ, the same yesterday and forever. When we see 
the exceeding preciousness of human love in his eyes, and 
realize his sympathetic nature, and then remember that he is 


MARKTHA AND MARY. 


RESURRECTION AND LIFE, can we not trust him with our best 
beloved, and look to him for that hour of reunion which he 
has promised ? 

The doctrine of the resurrection of the body is a precious 
concession to human weakness and human love. How dear 
the outward form of our child, — how distressing to think we 
shall never see it again! But Christ promises we shall. Here 
is a mystery. St. Paul says, that as the seed buried in the 
earth is to the new plant or flower, so is our present mortal 
body to the new immortal one that shall spring from it. It 
shall be our friend, our child, familiar to us with all that 
mysterious charm of personal identity, yet clothed with the 
life and beauty of the skies; and then the Lord God will 
wipe away all tears from all faces. 


THE END. 


Cambridge: Electrotyped and Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co. 


he 
aoc a ee 
ar at 
Ber Me 
a AY ; 7 = 
~ 


mo 

ait 
ay 

ray 


ae As 


ite? yh 


: 


oy = 


Let a r 
* a ae) 
; a = 
oye aa 7 
en t 
; a 


2 J 
’ ‘ os * 
, i ee 
A . 
, { / 
rs 4 


* 
A. Peye, 
an 
; 
tat 
% ¢ : 
‘ ses P| ¢ 
Toe fy ee 
' Fs 
RN RERES 
4 
we ‘ 

an 
; ie é 
' 
i 
et ie “ F 


vin i 
;"* sar 

) »- Weak 
i’ acd | 
a Ps 4 
. , cine 
sf) ? 3 ».% 
bw piles 
ws biome (ad 
Sern i , 
Die : ‘ 
“4 } 
aie i gmk OT AAR 


o 
. 
\s 
>t 
‘ ‘P 
7 
’ 
‘7 
oY 
i ( 
Me Se 
- 
+ ee 
’ 
a 
‘ ‘ 
i f , 
a? > ae 
“ if % 4 
* 
F % é Ms 
of i ' 
ban ’ 
a5) ‘. ’ 
Wee 


. ‘ ; 
> te 
hye Fs ‘ ie, un 
+ st " 
Shei 
‘ S 
: as 
‘ 
Ps 4 
” 
-- 
: > a 
' - ‘ , 
‘ toen! Rhy 
_ , ete t 
. 2 x ed 
aa s 
j » 
i Ac 
t > AS 
M § 
. vue 
‘ 
af 
¥ Ss ‘ 
g% 
j ' 
t 
of 
+ ’ 
. 
y a) 
. 
f 
. 
2 
f 
: 
2 ‘ 
~ ‘ 
g ‘ 
4 
I 
% - 
- 
a 


yi 4 
= 


— 
a 


a Re ee “~ 


Chin 


ae 


-_ 
. 


z 


OL See 


eae 


RE 


ee 
wees 
ne Ss 


ect 
Chom 


ae 


ie 
tt 


piensa = "Or 
aN oe 


as ~ 
f 


2g-4Kr 


Ae Naseieey ase 


PEG EU LIS . % 3 : 2 PPLE : Lim tea T eh. ole 


_- Srertis heen 


7 
aredppanceie Tt Sart 


